The Rise Of A Fallen Angel
by Bourbon Rose
Summary: "Everything that goes up goes down again, doesn't it? But isn't it the same in reverse? Meaning that everything that goes down rises again? Like the rising of a fallen angel. Doesn't that exist?" Rosalie's story. Eventually a Rosalie/Emmett love story.
1. Fierce Beauty

**First of all I want to give a huge thanks to my precious beta: Crimson Love 20. Thank you for your work and your sweet comments, I really appreciate it.**

**For the readers: This is the story of Rosalie, why she is who she is, why she acts how she acts. I hope you can accept the way I put her, how I describe her character.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any characters.**

**Enjoy it, Bourbon Rose**

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**FIERCE BEAUTY**

_My story doesn't have a happy ending – but which of ours does? If we had happy endings, we'd all be under gravestones now.__**  
**__**Rosalie Hale - Eclipse**_

_._

_._

I'd never been ordinary, so wasn't it appropriate for my life to be anything but ordinary? Maybe. But considering how lucky I'd always been, wasn't it unfair for my life to turn out so _un_lucky?

Yes, it was.

My story isn't for the weak-hearted, nor for weak stomachs. Things happened to me, things I don't like to remember or to think of but flash through my mind every day nonetheless. Things that are an inconvenient part of my life. They made me what I am. Who I am. They explain why I act the way I act, why I think the way I think. They explain every little detail of what defines me as Rosalie Lillian Hale.

**…**

I don't think I've ever cared as much for anything other than my beauty. My future – getting a rich husband, having children – came very close behind that.

I grew up in a middle class family, my father working as a banker and my mother organizing parties. It was all about status, you see. When I, or my younger brothers, did something wrong or inappropriate in public, my parents wouldn't look at us for days. They saw it as an embarrassment, a flaw in the perfection that was the Hale family.

Though my parents didn't necessarily share a loving relationship, they did care about their children, giving us presents and much love. But there was always a catch to it. Always that undertone of greed, a proud smile when they managed to buy something expensive, a quick look to their surroundings, checking if anyone else could see what they'd bought for us this time.

And because I was their oldest child and the only girl, I was privileged to get everything I wanted. I was very lucky as a human.

My beauty was my one and only pride. The way people looked at me when I walked past… I adored it. I was loved because of how I looked, I got things because of how I looked. How could _I__ not_ love my beauty?

I was the crown jewel of my family, and my parents weren't ashamed to use that to rise the ranks of society. My job was to welcome the many guests, to smile, to parade… Anything to make them notice the Hale princess.

If I had problems – not that I had many – I just smiled my blinding smile and chose to ignore them. It worked quite well. As long as I had my beauty, my clothes, my money – as long as I had _that_ – nothing could harm me, and I would be truly happy.

My beauty protected me from problems; it worked as a shield for the outside world. If I would just put on a devastating smile, if I would just wink or walk seductively, people wouldn't see past that, and I would have the world wrapped around my little finger.

I quickly became addicted to the stares and glances people threw at me. It wasn't just the fact that I absolutely loved the attention, I desperately _needed_ it. Especially that from the men, of course. It was living proof my shield was still intact and working.

And _boy_, was my shield working.

I could prance down a room and have everybody's jaw glued to the ground in record time. If I smiled coyly to a man, his wife would wrap her hands possessively around his arm like claws while trying to glare me down. However, I never lost a glaring competition. My violet eyes could shoot fire if I wanted them to.

And although the wife tried to appear self-assured and not bothered at all, there was always that jealous gleam in her eyes, a scared glittering, which betrayed her fear of adultery her husband would or would not commit. With me.

If I needed something – anything at all – my appearance would get me that. And why the need for a nice character, when my outer self attracted all the attention? That's why my inner self wasn't needed, and it was neglected.

Sometimes I noticed how people cringed in surprise when they heard my hard voice, such a counterpart of my angelic features. It didn't bother me in the slightest. I only had to smile, and the traces of shock on their faces would melt to adoration like snow melts in the sun. My fierce character would be forgotten in an instant.

**…**

**…**

Royce King the Second.

He was the son of the only royal family living in Rochester. His father owned the bank my father worked at. Royce had this aura surrounding him that screamed sexy.

I'd always thought of him as handsome, and I'd always seemed to just _know_ we would be the perfect match. That we were made for one another, like clouds are made for the sky. With his light hair, blue eyes and kissable lips, he was often seen as the male equivalent of me.

He'd noticed me before I noticed him, which was usually the case with men.

**…**

Two days after Royce had replaced his father in the ownership of the bank, my father forgot to take his lunch with him.

"Rosalie?" my mother called.

"Yes?" I pursed my lips and applied some red lipstick. The person in the mirror was lovely, of course. I often wondered if there was any girl in this state that was prettier than me.

My mother came to stand behind me, and I noticed how her eyes shone with glee. I kept my eyes locked on the mirror in front of me when she began to roll up my hair.

"I forgot to send your father's lunch to work with him. Would you mind bringing it to him?"

Of course I didn't. It was only another opportunity to let people notice me.

"That's great. Do you remember that white organza your father bought you last week?"

"I remember." How could I not? It was just as beautiful as the current owner.

"Change into that, alright?" she said as she fastened my hair with pins.

"Why?" I was confused. It was only a stroll to the bank. Hardly five minutes.

"Just do it, alright, dear?"

"Of course, Mother."

I did what she asked, grabbed my father's lunch and strode gracefully out of the house. It wasn't that much of a walk, but even now I could feel people staring at me. I smirked. It felt fantastic to have people gazing at you like you are the sun, and they were cavemen seeing the glowing orb shine for the very first time in their dark lives.

I let someone open the glass doors for me, and my heels clicked loudly on the shiny marble that was laid out on the floor. The sound made people look up, and my smile widened, knowing they wouldn't look down until I was long passed them.

I reached my father's desk and handed him his lunch. "You left your lunch, Father."

He smiled at me – beaming.

"Thank you so much, Rosalie."

I frowned at his gratefulness but nodded at him. "No problem."

I turned around and strode back to the door, unaware of the two blue eyes that were practically drilling holes in the back of my head, gliding over my hair, taking in my waist, my walk… already lusting for it.

**…**

That night the doorbell rang. My younger brother went to open it and came back with his arms full of roses. I cocked an eyebrow when I saw them.

"For you, Rosalie." He handed them to me, his expression just as confused as mine.

"Thank you. I think." I took the flowers from him, careful not to sting myself. I searched for a card and eventually found one.

I reached for it cautiously. It was difficult to get to. The biting thorns were all over it. Maybe I just should have given up, but I neglected the hidden warning.

I took it out of the bundle roses, snapping the yellow string attached to it.

On it was written in elegant calligraphy:

_For the most beautiful Rose in the world._

I smirked and turned it over, the blood rushing healthily through my body, making my cheeks slightly flush with pride.

The name on the other side made my eyebrows rise, and my full lips turned into a big, gorgeous smile.

**…**

I got roses every night now. They were everywhere – on the floor, covering every flat surface of my room, on my walls, even in my bed. I had to face the fact I was condemned to smell like roses the rest of my life. Not that _I_ minded.

I felt important, and I felt worthy for it all. This was everything I'd ever expected my life to possess. My luck was almost tangible in the air, flowing thickly around me, keeping me on my toes, keeping me smiling.

I was so unbelievably happy that I often wished for eternal life. I already dreaded my dying day, for I didn't want this life, this happiness, to end. It was perfect and a dream coming true – my dream coming true. I wanted to keep it, and I wanted to keep it forever.

Royce and I didn't spend much time alone, since he practically drowned in his work – at least, that's what he told me. But the time we _did_ spend together was filled with parties, dancing, gorgeous dresses, jealous looks of both men _and_ women. I loved it and reveled in it. Everything was contributing to my happiness, my joy.

Royce liked to have people look at me – more importantly, at me on _his_ arm. He loved to brag with his possessions. At the time I didn't think much of it, and I didn't really care, either.

The mesmerized glances people shot at us were like air to me. Without it I couldn't breathe, I couldn't go on. The attention was to me what water was to a fish. If I couldn't have it, I was like a fish on dry land, choking and struggling, craving the water more than anything.

One night, Royce gazed deeply into my eyes, and I stared back, foolishly love-sick. He told me with a soft, swooning voice my eyes were like violets. Now, my room began to burst out of its seams with roses _and_ violets.

He promised me to turn me into a princess, to buy me a beautiful dress every week, to always, _always_ protect me. I was his angel, and I believed him and trusted him utterly and completely.

I gave him my heart.

**…**

My father tried to announce my engagement to Royce in a matter-of-fact manner, but I could see the greedy gleam in his eyes, the way his lips curved upwards every time he mentioned my fiancé. I guess I could see his point. Royce's family was very, very rich and when he married me, he would bring a lot of money and status with him.

My mother clung to my father's arm, congratulating me passionately. Her eagerness wasn't toward me, however. She had the same possessive aura surrounding her as my father. Money, status. Status, money.

They were hyenas waiting for the lions to fuck off, so they could finally reach the carcass. The gleam in their eyes was the same as the hungry looks of vultures diving on the same dead meat, having waited for so long with so little patience. Money, status. Status, money. It was all that mattered.

I didn't see it then. I was way too euphoric to notice the self-obsessed thoughts of my parents. I was too busy with myself.

Royce! I was going to marry handsome Royce! And not only would I end up with a good-looking husband – I would _marry_. And marrying meant a beautiful white dress, a gorgeous haircut and a devastating face that would dazzle everyone by merely glancing at it.

Oh, how the people would marvel at the very sight of Rosalie Lillian Hale, the world's most gorgeous bride!

However, the lions would be too fast for the hyenas and the vultures, their claws and teeth combining with their massive strength to tear their victim apart limb for limb, so that the only thing left would be a muddy blood puddle. Nothing to fill the scavengers' empty stomachs with.

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**Please tell me what you think :)**


	2. Dreams

**Again, a lot of gratitude for my beta, Crimson Love 20. You're awesome :)**

**And again for the readers: I hope you'll enjoy it.**

**Bourbon Rose**

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**DREAMS**

_Hold fast to your dreams, for without them life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly. __  
**Langston Hughes**_

.

.

I didn't know what I wanted and yet I knew exactly what I wanted, because what I wanted was everything.

I wanted a family, a husband, children, lots of money and lots of admirers.

I wanted to be free.

I wanted… to not want anything. I wanted to _have_ everything and just be happy and careless.

I had many dreams, and I expected them all to come true. The future was a warm and thick blanket where I could draw back when the topic of conversation would turn into something gloomy or when cold nightmares stuck to me like black syrup.

My first dream was to be rich, because when you're rich and pretty you have everything. Well, the latter I already had and the first… my parents were about to get that, thanks to me.

The person who played a huge role in designing my dreams was Vera.

Vera was the closest thing to a best friend I ever had, I guess. She loved me and I loved her. I could open up with her, let her show her the real me.

Even with her it was only partially, though. It was great, however, to talk to a person who didn't cringe at every other harsh word that left the safety of my lips. She accepted me how I was. She laughed at statements I made where other people – weaker men and women – would have been shocked about. I would never say it, but I was truly grateful to have her.

She wasn't the prettiest thing in the world, not ugly per se, but compared to me she was next to ordinary. So her life was ordinary. Her marriage was at her seventeenth, a year before mine was even planned.

**…**

"Rose, I'm getting married!"

I chuckled. "Well, yeah, I know. That's sort of the reason I came to visit you."

She ignored my teasing tone and threw her arms around me. I was never really for the touching and hugging and all, but with Vera I always made an exception. I hugged her back, and I saw how she was positively gloating.

I followed her in the living room and noticed a cage with a canary in it. The bird was a petite yellow creature what chirped loudly and fluttered around hopelessly in the small space.

I cocked an eyebrow. "Vera, what the hell do you have there?"

"That's Chirpy," she said with a giggle.

"Chirpy?" I said with a smirk. "Well, the name certainly suffices."

"Doesn't it? Sam gave it to me when he proposed, isn't that sweet?"

"He gave you a bird?"

"Well, not _just_ a bird, of course. It's a canary, they cost a fortune," Vera said with a growing smile.

"He gave you a canary named Chirpy?"

"The name was actually my idea. Isn't it cute?"

I smirked. "For the proposal?"

"It was so perfect, Rose! He tied a little ribbon around Chirpy's neck and hung a letter on it. And there he'd written: 'Vera Miller, will you marry me?'"

"Wow, he actually made work out of it," I said with a laugh.

"Yes," she said with a huge smile.

I looked at the poor little bird that whirled around, chirping madly. Occasionally he bumped against the bars holding him prisoner, making him back away for a moment, dizzy from the impact, only to try it again seconds later. I got claustrophobic just by looking at it.

I tore my gaze away and smiled at Vera.

"Where's the lucky man?" I asked, curious to see who had caught her heart.

"In the living room. Oh, he's such a darling," she chirped – sounding like the bird herself now.

I grinned widely. "Shouldn't your best friend approve of him?"

She nodded, again oblivious to my teasing. She grabbed my hand and pulled me with her. He was a nice looking fellow, with dark hair and a friendly open face. Immediately – automatically – I began flirting. I smiled coyly and grabbed his hand to shake it lightly – like a lady befitted.

He smiled back, but after the introduction he quickly went to Vera's side to kiss her on the cheek. She ducked her head shyly and giggled, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

I was slightly stunned – and a little insulted. There was no drooling, no groveling, no bragging on about how strong he was. No nothing. There has never _ever_ been a man that could withstand my flirting. I blinked a few times and looked around to see them staring intently into each other's eyes. Eyes full of love, devotion, passion… _gratitude_.

It made me a bit sick when I thought about that. Royce never looked at me like that. Yes, he often looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing walking on this planet and sure, that was great – but nothing special. No love colored his gaze, no devotion, no _gratitude_. Just a high amount of lust like he couldn't wait one minute longer until the wedding night.

Once – on a trip to see some of the wildlife of America – I saw a herd of buffalo. The tour guide said it was the middle of the mating season, and the male buffalo had only one shot at getting their seed into one of the females. They were prancing around, fighting, bickering, growling, showing off their muscles, until they would finally be chosen by a female – preferably the prettiest. When they were chosen they pounced on their so-called mates without a shred of respect and pumped and pushed until the female screamed out, shocked and pained because of their rudeness. Then they plopped back on all fours and walked away without a backwards glance to see if their _mate_ was alright.

Royce was like the male buffalo.

**...**

It was when I was fitting my wedding dress – that the letter came which announced the birth of her little boy Henry. My own wedding would be in a week, and I was so unbelievably excited and this news made me even happier. But also a little sad.

Vera wasn't very rich, nor was her husband or their families. I actually felt sorry for her. I would be marrying the richest man in Rochester, my children would know wealth everywhere they'd look. Her children would never have the privilege of having much money. I made a promise to myself to ask them to come over as many times as possible.

Of course, I had to see the baby with my own eyes.

**…**

"Rose, you came!" Vera's elated voice greeted me, together with the maddening sound that came out of Chirpy. I couldn't understand how something so tiny could produce such a loud sound, it was ridiculous.

Slightly distracted by the noisy bird, I failed to notice Vera's expression until we were already inside.

Her face was of a full-blown happiness. She looked like an angel, and I was genuinely surprised. If a baby could turn her into an angel, what would it do to me? It would make me look like a true goddess.

"Of course I came, Vera." I stepped into the little house. "Now, where is your little darling?"

"He's with my _other_ darling," she squealed happily, while she headed up the stairs, me following her closely.

"Isn't he working?"

"No, he took a few days off, isn't he the sweetest?" Then, on the middle of the stairs, she turned around to face me and she whispered elated: "He's so adorable with the baby!"

I smirked skeptically. "A _man_ adorable with a _baby_?"

"Yes." Her smile grew in proportion. "I'm so happy, Rose!" She wasn't lying, the emotion was practically radiating out of her, lightening the dark staircase like a happily flickering candle. "I can't wait for you to have a husband and a baby and then we can go out together…"

I chuckled. In truth, I couldn't wait either. Everything was so exciting. We were finally becoming real adults, with our own little families to look after for. It was wonderful and fantastic.

Vera continued her joyful rambling about the future while she led me in another room, the baby room.

The sight there nearly knocked me of my feet.

There her two darlings were. Her husband was holding their baby in his arms, and the way he looked was so… innocent, so adorable, so vulnerable, it made my heart ache with longing.

He looked up to see us standing and he, too, had eyes filled with pure bliss, like he had just won a million dollars – or even something better. There was also a slight wonder, like he couldn't believe how he ended up in this little heaven.

He stood up and kissed Vera on her cheek. She giggled and turned to me.

"Sam, let Rosalie hold Henry. I know she wants to."

I held out my arms all too willingly, and Sam handed me the baby so carefully, I would've believed it if he'd said his own heart was wrapped in that cloth. I looked in the package of blankets my arms carried and stiffened.

The most beautiful brown eyes were gazing up at me, big with wonder and curiosity. I brushed my hand against his cheek and marveled at the softness of his skin. Curly, brown hair peeked from underneath the blanket wrapped around his little head. I took my fingers of his rosy cheeks and caressed his little mop nose, his red cupid lips, his little ears. He moved a bit and then a tiny hand appeared, so little, so small, so delicately made, it was beauty at its purest.

I muffled it cautiously away under his blue blanket and lingered with my hand on his tiny one for a moment. Suddenly he yawned, his little mouth forming a perfect, little O, and the most adorable dimples showed. His eyelids dropped halfway down, and he nudged his little head in my hand, searching for comfort, searching for support. He made a crying sound, and then he looked at me tiredly. I nearly cried of admiration, and my heart completely melted.

"He's absolutely gorgeous," I whispered, completely stunned.

I was aware of them exchanging gleeful glances – like there was any possible way this little bundle of cuteness couldn't be found gorgeous – but I didn't care. All I cared about was the baby.

Gone were my selfish thoughts about my _own_ beauty. I wanted a _baby_. A gorgeous one, just as gorgeous as this one. My heart leaped with joy at the thought of my own child. He would be an angel baby. With blond hair or brown curls and beautiful eyes. Maybe my violet ones or Royce's blue ones. He would be soft and all cream and roses, and I would wrap him up in the softest silken blankets and he would get everything – absolutely _everything_ – he would ever want.

Brown curls, I decided. He would have brown curls and sweet dimples whenever he laughed or talked. I stroked my hand through Henry's curls, feeling them wound around my fingers, gliding from my touch.

I looked up at his parents, suddenly remembering them. I smiled brightly.

"Adorable… You've made an angel."

Their smiles grew impossibly wider, and my own lit up my face.

A baby… I would have a _baby_…

**…**

The evening lasted not long enough, and all too soon I had to leave.

"You've got to come quickly again," Vera said as she hugged me. "I think Henry loves you." She smiled warmly at me. "I think you would be a wonderful mother, Rosalie."

My heart stuttered, and I almost squealed in joy. I hugged her back tightly.

"Thank you, Vera. And I would love to come back again. I will absolutely do so."

"Maybe we can come to your place, someday."

Vera looked up at the ceiling where her little family was.

"You go to your two darlings," I told her and I hugged her one more time, her brown hair tickling my face.

"I'm so excited, Rose. Someday, we will be sitting here on the porch as grandmothers. We'll have grey hair, wrinkled skin and we both will have had at least three babies who in their turn will also have babies. We'll be knitting and telling stories about the gorgeously happy lives we've had, and our husbands will be sitting on our sides, laughing and kissing us regularly – of course. And we will be laughing with them, and we will watch our grandchildren play with each other." She stared at me with far away, dreamy eyes, seeing it all happen.

She wasn't the only one who could see it happen.

Then her eyes focused on my face and with an air of certainty, she giggled and pulled my hair teasingly.

"I'm absolutely sure of it."

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**Penny for your thoughts?**


	3. Fallen Angel

**As usual, Crimson Love 20: Thank you for your beta-skills :)**

**Enjoy it, Bourbon Rose**

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**FALLEN ANGEL**

.

.

It was chilly outside, and I worried about my wedding. I didn't want to have to move it indoors. I grimaced at the thought. I wanted the sun to shine brightly down on me, making my dress even whiter, making my hair glow like gold, making my smile sparkle.

I shivered and wished I'd called my father to tell him to pick me up. I pulled my jacket on tighter and started walking faster.

I pictured Henry's little, dimpled, adorable face, and a long coat made out of warm sunbeams fell down upon me, making me all warm again. _A baby, a baby, a baby_, I chanted in my head. I was all dizzy with delight.

_Soon_, I thought. Our wedding would be in a week, and then we would be able to have a baby. Hell, we could have as many babies as we'd like! I could barely believe this was going to happen to me.

My growing smile disappeared when I noticed a group of men standing half-hidden in a dark alley. The sunbeam-coat glided off my shoulders and fell on the cold ground, leaving me shivering again. Many times had my father warned me about rapes and other forced sexual contacts. I sped up my pace, but dropped dead when I recognized them. My eyes grew wide.

"Rose!" he yelled just as I decided that it was definitely him. Royce.

But they were _drunk_. Royce didn't drink. I noticed his friends, and the man who had come over from Atlanta – a cousin of Royce's or something.

"Here's my Rose!" Well, he was definitely drunk. I grew angry and walked towards him to demand an explanation. I didn't have a chance to formulate a question, however, as Royce grabbed my arm and yanked me closer.

"What did I tell you, John? Isn't she lovelier than all your Georgia peaches?"

He turned me in his arms, and I felt uncomfortable when so-called John looked me over with a critical look in his dark eyes. He ran a hand through his brown hair and shook his head sadly.

"It's hard to tell. She's all covered up."

The men laughed, and I was truly frightened now. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs, like Chirpy back at Vera's, trying to escape from its cage.

I gasped when Royce tore my jacket from my body. It made a horrifying ripping sound. The buttons fell rattling onto the ground, and John laughed foolishly as he kicked them even further on the empty street.

"Show him what you look like, Rose!" Royce yelled, and he laughed as I struggled to get free.

I cried out in pain as my hat was yanked from my hair, taking a few strands with them.

They began to pull me deeper into the alley, while I struggled with all of my power to get loose. They were with five, though, and I was all alone.

"Shh, sweetheart. We don't want to wake up all of Rochester, do we?" John whispered in my ear, earning several snickers from the group.

I opened my mouth to scream, to cry, to call them names my father would have washed my mouth with soap for, but someone pulled my coat half in my mouth and pulled to fasten it against the back of my head in a tight knot. All I could bring out was a strangled moan.

When they ripped my dress to pieces, I closed my eyes.

**…**

Love never dies a natural death. It doesn't _fade_ away. I don't believe that. Love only dies when it's pushed down a cliff, when it's drowned in the swirling waves of a wild sea, when someone grabs a match and sets it on fire.

Blindness, errors, disinterest, betrayal.

The thing with love is, it can hurt a person so much more than any other thing in the world. Wounds and illness, inflicted deeply into the mind, into the soul… That's where love gives up, where it surrenders.

That's where love dies.

Betrayal can only happen when you love. And I fell for it with wide open eyes.

I'd always imagined myself in this kind of situation. Scared, terrified, outnumbered. But in my fantasies there was always that man who rescued me, who freed that little bird from its cage. I always thought that man to be Royce.

Yes, that is ironic, but I'll be happy to rip your head off if you find it humorous in the slightest.

I thought about that now. And with that thought my heart shattered into tiny pieces. It hurt. The betrayal. It really, truly hurt.

But along with the piercing pain in my heart, other pains came. And those pains hurt so much more.

**…**

They ripped their way through me, tore and yanked at me like I was made out of steel, like I couldn't break.

I could, though.

Amongst my muffled cries of pain, I heard the sickening cracks of bones that couldn't hold the tension any longer and broke. I could hear sloshing, ripping sounds from deep inside of me. I heard them bickering and snapping at each other, fighting whose turn it was, just like the buffalo I'd once seen. I heard their whispered yells of pleasure when they forced themselves into me.

I couldn't bring myself to sob audibly, I was in too much pain for that. I did, however, feel the salty moisture burning in the bruises on my cheeks. Somewhere in the gruesome process, my jacket fell out of my mouth, making it able for me to yell, but I was past the point of screaming for help. I just wanted to die.

I was smashed against the ground, and the hard stones felt cool against my flaming hot skin.

More cracks, more pain.

I felt something warm and wet dripping over my thighs. I moaned when I realized what it was.

Another one. More pain.

A scream of pleasure. A hushing voice.

More pain.

Pain, pain, pain. A ripping, burning, screaming pain. I could barely believe this was happening to me.

And then… they left. Laughing and teasing Royce as they went, noticing how he would have to find a new bride. Vaguely I heard Royce snicker and make the correct observation he'd have to learn some patience first.

They left and I was still there, lying on the ground like a broken doll. A fallen angel.

I was going to die. I was absolutely sure of that, but I wasn't afraid. Oh, no. Anything but afraid. I had surrendered, and I welcomed death with open arms and a pleading scream to _please hurry_. Dead meant peace. Dead meant silence.

As the world became darker, and I became colder, the pain subsided. I had the strange feeling that I was drowning. Like I somehow ended up in the gigantic ocean and that the furious waves were pulling me down.

I thought about poor Chirpy, captured the rest of his life in the small cage and somewhere I felt relieved that that was not my fate. In just a minute I would be free forever. Free from the pain, free from the humiliation, free from everything. To not think, to not feel a thing… I craved it more than anything in the world at this moment.

To die… what would it be like? Would I just float in that enormous ocean forever? I could do that.

And darker and darker the world became.

And I was pulled down towards the bottom of the bottomless ocean.

And down and down I went.

**…**

An agonizing, piercing feeling shot through my throat, my wrists, my ankles.

_No!_ The pain was _back!_

It burned, hotter and hotter until it reached boiling point, and I screamed out in horror. This pain was far worse than any pain I'd ever endured.

_What have I done to deserve hell? What? Why me?_

An anguished ripping sound broke the momentary silence. It was the deformed sound coming from my broken throat.

"Kill me! Oh please, _God_, kill me!"

My back arched, and my limbs twisted involuntarily. I vaguely heard someone apologize, but I was in too much pain to think about it. I screamed again.

My eyes flew open, but it was too dark to see clearly. I closed them when the pain became even worse, flaming up from my ankles and wrists to the rest, clinging to every fiber my body possessed with a furious determination.

"_Kill me_! Let me die! I want to die!"

I begged and begged. Screamed and shouted until my throat grew flaming hot, but nobody answered. Nobody seemed to be there. Nobody killed me. Even God had deserted me, and he'd left my soul to bleed and to die a painful and lonely death.

And so I stayed alive and conscious.

I screamed and shrieked for as long as my voice held. But then it died, and all I could do was sob.

I cried and cried and cried, the tears streaming down my cheeks, the raspy sobs escaping my throat, but the pain never subsided. It never stopped.

**…**

The burning – the unbearably hot, piercing, agonizing burning – could've been there inside me for days, months, years… I didn't know. Time was meaningless, gone, dead. Everything was dead but the pain. All my attention was turned inwards. The world could've blasted apart, and I wouldn't have noticed.

And the pain… the crippling, furious, raging pain… it didn't stop. It never did.

**…**

I barely noticed it, but I seemed as if it was slowing down a tiny bit. Racing instead of bouldering. Trashing instead of utterly destroying.

And I began to grow aware of others with me. There was this voice, a beautiful, melodic voice that talked and talked and talked. I couldn't make out words, though. The fire was too loud.

As were my sobs.

**…**

"… Carlisle … wife … you … dying … _saved_ …"

Fragments. I didn't understand.

And the pain was still crippling me, trashing through my broken body like wildfire.

Then another voice, a female one.

"_Beautiful_…"

**…**

"What were you thinking, Carlisle?" a velvet voice demanded this time. He sounded angry.

I cried out when the pain peeked and then slowed down a bit. It was coming in waves now. Like the sea. And instead of drowning, instead of going down… I went upwards, towards the light, towards the warmer water. The pain was never really subsiding, but no longer a constant searing burning.

"_Rosalie Hale_?" Disgust was dripping from his tone.

I forced myself to be quiet. The screaming didn't help, regardless.

"I couldn't just let her die," the melodic voice said softly. "It was too much – too horrible, too much waste."

What was happening?

"I know," the velvet voice agreed, and I grew irritated. Of course he didn't know! What? He happened to _be_ there?

"It was too much waste. I couldn't leave her," he whispered.

"Of course you couldn't," tinkled the voice of the woman.

"People die all the time," the velvet voice disagreed harshly. "Don't you think she's just a little recognizable, though? The Kings will have to put up a huge search…"

With his name, the memories rushed back towards the surface. It was like some huge, evil giant stamped on the million pieces of my already broken heart and broke them even further, scattering the pieces all over the place so there was no hope for me to ever collect them again.

"… not that anyone suspects the fiend," the velvet voice continued with a beastly growl.

At least they somehow knew Royce was responsible for this. That was surprisingly relieving.

"What are we going to do with her?" the velvet voice said. He sounded disgusted again, and I really, really felt the urge to smack him in the face.

A sigh. "That's up to her, of course. She may want to go her own way."

I was instantly terrified. Alone? No, I didn't even understood what the hell was happening with me. No way I was going to be alone!

**…**

"Vampire."

What?

"No, she doesn't."

_So annoying_, the velvet voice was talking like he was on a phone – _all the time_ – and I couldn't hear the other side.

"I'll explain again, then."

I tried to bite back my cries while I listened to him.

* * *

**Please leave some thoughts behind, they're more than welcome :)**


	4. Silence

**Thanks for your betaing Crimson Love 20, I really appreciate it :)**

**I'm not entirely happy about this one, but this just needed to be done and then the story can continue :) So, I just hope you'll like it nonetheless.**

**Enjoy - Bourbon Rose**

* * *

**SILENT BIRD**

_Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror._  
_**Kahlil Gibran**_

.

.

A vampire? Me? _How?_

As I listened to Carlisle explain their story my horror grew exponentially. He talked about strength, speed, intelligence and enhanced senses - but also about a never ending life, human pretenses, and a diet consisting of blood.

Animal blood.

And if that wasn't disgusting and terrifying enough, he told me about the never-ending urge to kill humans. _Humans_. The way he said it sounded like we… Well, he was right of course. I wasn't a human anymore; they _were_ another species. _We_ were another species, entirely different from mankind.

His story finally ended with what had happened to me.

"I was walking home from work, and suddenly I smelled blood. I followed the scent into an alley and saw you lying there, barely breathing, barely alive. You were covered in blood and horribly wounded."

I could only stare at him from under a thick cover of pain. I was terrified, and I really didn't want to believe him.

"I smelled the traces of Royce and a few others I didn't recognize. I could still hear them laughing out loud, only a mile or two away.

"I decided to save you. I couldn't let you die there, not like that. The venom heals all your wounds. You're… this pain you're feeling, it's the venom coursing through your body, turning you into one of us.

"I was hoping - _we_ were hoping you would want to stay with us."

And then he told a story about being a newborn and becoming a danger to people. Red eyes, instincts, cuts, blood. Lots of blood.

My world was slipping from my hands, and I clawed at it desperately, but my nails were broken from the fights I'd had to fight, and I couldn't find any grip. I tried, oh _God_, I tried so hard. But it was hopeless, and I was losing it.

And still the pain didn't die, but I could feel it fading.

**…**

I gasped as I felt the pain move from my depths to the surface. I cried out – pained and afraid – when my heart beat increased.

"It's almost over," the velvet voice said softly, reassuring me a bit.

"Yes, in a lot," he added as if in an afterthought, like he was answering a question I hadn't heard. _So annoying_.

My heart thumped so fast now, I was afraid it would burst out of my chest.

I thought about Chirpy that was so desperate to fly away – to break from the prison of my ribs. Pouncing and slamming against it in a vain hope to break it, his head spinning from the hard, unbreakable bars.

I arched my back and opened my mouth in one last, final scream before my body slumped back, and my heart stopped.

I was greeted with silence.

The bird had stopped moving. It had stopped trying. But what did that mean? Was it free or dead?

**…**

It was absolutely quiet. Deliciously so. The pain was finally,_ finally_ silenced. My throat still burned, but that was only to be expected – I had shouted so much. Other than that, I was heavenly pain-free. In fact, I felt wonderful.

I looked around from my lying position and discovered my eyesight was a thousand times – no, a _million_ times better than… _before._

The reality hit me in the face like a splash of ice water. The world came crashing down on me like a heavy boulder, settling on my shoulders and bending my back to breaking point.

The absence of my heartbeat.

The betrayal of Royce.

The awareness of three people looking at me from across the room.

Where was I? _What_ was I?

"We just told you. You're a vampire," the velvet voice sighed, sounding exasperate.

"Edward, hush," the scolding voice of the female sounded.

Before I could even comprehend what I was doing, I was on my feet and facing the three vampires that claimed to be my _rescuers_.

**…**

Of course I'd already heard of the Cullens – I had even seen them a few times. Who hadn't? Even before I actually saw them, I'd heard rumors of devastating beauty, of the brilliancy of Dr. Cullen, the politeness of his son and the grace his wife possessed.

It disgusted me, and I was instantly jealous. People were supposed to say that about _me_, they were supposed to look at _me_ and only at _me_. But ever since _they_ moved into Rochester they'd stolen my precious spotlight, that which I had so desperately needed, craved like a drug.

Lucky for me, the news was quickly old, for the Cullens didn't mingle much in society. I'd seen them only twice at parties. They indeed _did_ look gorgeous – the woman in a beautiful silk dress, the two men in black tuxedos – but I was quick to forget that fact, when I noticed how people tended to avoid them, how the Cullens never really seemed to talk to anyone.

I had just heaved a relieved sigh, and I had tried my extra hardest to make people notice me again. Of course, that had happened almost instantly, seeing I really didn't need to do that much for people to notice me. I tried to ignore the Cullens as much as possible and prayed they would leave town soon. In the mean time, I just continued to live my happy life to the fullest.

**…**

"Are you alright, dear?" the woman asked, seemingly concerned for my well-being.

I stared at her, unsure how to answer. It bothered me that they looked even more gorgeous now that I could see clearer.

"It is a little bit disorientating," the doctor nodded. "Let me introduce my family. I'm sure you have heard of us," he said with a tiny smile. The boy snorted, and I frowned at him in irritation.

"I'm Carlisle Cullen. This is my wife, Esme, and our son, Edward."

I cocked my eyebrow. _Son_? How could that be? He didn't even looked like them.

"Yeah, smart ass, not a biological one," Edward said with a smirk. Two pair of eyes flashed warningly to his face.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Well, Rosalie," Carlisle said hastily.

I interrupted him rudely. "No, I was asking _him_," and I pointed accusatorily at Edward.

The object of my irritation merely raised his eyebrows and turned to speak to Carlisle. "You still think it's a good idea, Carlisle? Because I _know_ she's going to cause trouble."

"I'll explain, Rosalie," Carlisle said slowly.

This time, he was interrupted by Edward. "I can read minds."

I almost laughed at the stupidity of that statement, but then a whole lot of things connected with each other. The fact that it seemed he was talking through the phone all the time, for one thing. Then it occurred to me that he was going to hear every single thing I would be thinking from now on. If I stayed here, with them, he would hear every thought of me, every single one.

My eyes grew wide, and a vicious snarl escaped my burning throat. "You _what_?" _So, you're a freak, then? You stupid, obnoxious kid!_

Edward snarled back in response, but I was pleased to see he stepped back when I stepped forward. "I'm not!"

"Edward, Rosalie, calm down," Carlisle said.

Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? To call me Rosalie like that. To him I was _Miss Hale_. But the words that left his mouth next prevented me from saying that. Because it was too ridiculous, too much, too weird, too… _fitting_ for this absolute mess that was and would be my life for the rest of eternity.

"Some vampires have special abilities. We call them gifts or talents. It's a trait that you already possess as a human, and it's strengthened being a vampire. For instance, Edward was always very sensitive for the thoughts of other people and now, as a vampire, he is able to read minds."

I snarled angrily but was stunned at the same time. I must have looked like an imbecile staring at him like that, my eyes narrowed, my mouth forming a snarl way too slowly.

"Calm down, honey," Esme said quickly. "You've brought something from your human life as well."

I raised my eyebrows and whipped my head around to look at her.

"What?" I could only think of one thing, but how the hell could _that_ have strengthened when it was already so perfect?

Esme turned around and flashed out of the room. "Just a minute."

She was back in a second, carrying a mirror in her hands that she handed over to me. "Now look, dear."

Immediately, I noticed my eyes - those piercing, burgundy eyes. I cringed in shock, but then my eyes moved over the rest of me, and I stiffened. The mirror glided out of my hands and clattered onto the floor, breaking into pieces.

I had been wrong before, absolutely wrong.

Something that was supposed to be perfect had been polished into a magnificent, gorgeous beauty that shouldn't be able to walk around on this earth. I was speechless. There were no words to describe… _me_.

The most beautiful, gorgeous, magnificent creature on the world had been staring at me from that mirror. Her skin a snowy white color, her full red lips slightly curved upwards at the corners. Her red eyes were framed with long, black lashes and thick golden hair surrounded her face.

_My face_, I thought smugly. I looked down and the beautiful face – _my_ beautiful face – smiled happily up at me from eight different angles.

**…**

Happiness is just temporary, of course, and my happiness flowed away quickly when I wasn't looking into a mirror.

The one thing that hit me the most was that I was now stuck. Stuck in this _stupid_ life, stuck with those _awful_ memories until the Earth itself died. I wished it would just stop. All of it. The memories, my life, the world. One or another. As long as it stopped.

It's the most cruel thing life has to offer. Not that it stops, but that it continues.

Another indignation was that stupid, idiotic, ridiculous _pity_ that seemed to drip out of every pore from the pore-less bodies of the Cullens. Their voices, their looks, their _movements_ – _every single thing_ betrayed their compassion, their sympathy, their _pity_.

I could do without it!

Ridiculous for them to _pity_ me! What? Were they there that night? That night that changed my life drastically and forever? Did _they_ have to endure it? Did _they_ feel those men – those _beasts_ – yank at them, tear them to pieces, body and soul? Did they have to think about that night every minute of the day, so that now I was forgetting the happier things from my human life? No, they didn't. I did! And only I.

How unbelievably obtuse of them to _pity_ me. To cry for me, to grieve for me. Was my own grief not enough? Was my own pain not enough? Was _my_ overwhelming, crushing humiliation _not enough_?

Did they imply that I didn't mourn enough? So they decided to mourn, because my own wasn't enough? How dare they even think about my pain and soreness and sorrow! How _dare_ even a shimmer of the thought of my own pain _not being enough_ cross their simple minds!

_It was enough, alright!_

I was crushed. I was utterly broken. I was horribly wounded. The scars were just not on the outside, but on the inside as well.

Oh, was that it? The wounds aren't visible any longer, so I mustn't have them? Was that it? Was it?

Stop it! I do not require, desire, or even _want_ your pity! I grieve enough on my own. My grief should be enough. It _is_ enough. And if it isn't, I'll make it be enough.

Stop pitying me.

My pain is enough.

* * *

**Thank you for reading :) Please hit the review button to share your thoughts!**

**Next chapter: Rose is going to get her revenge.**


	5. Goodbye

**Thank you so much, Crimson Love 20 - Your betaing and your additions help the story so much :)**

**Finally time for Rosalie's revenge,**

**Enjoy - Bourbon Rose**

* * *

**GOODBYE**

.

.

It had been four weeks since it happened. The weather was still bad, like it wept for me.

I was in the room the Cullens had assigned me, sitting on a bed I couldn't possibly need and staring absentmindedly at the big mirror. My stillness was so alien. I had been sitting like this for over six hours now and still I didn't feel uncomfortable or stiff. I had been sitting like this a lot in the last weeks. Just doing nothing, trying to think of nothing.

I focused on the beautiful face in the mirror, so strange and yet so familiar. My eyes flickered to my hair, which resembled a waterfall of melted gold. My sensual, full, red lips turned into a small, proud smile.

_Beautiful_.

The only thing that slightly disturbed me – about my appearance anyway – were those horrendous red eyes. They were terrifying and an embarrassing flaw. A few months, then they would turn golden. A few months, and I would be absolutely flawless. I would be absolutely perfect. A stunning goddess.

My overly-sensitive ears picked up the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

The Cullens – I sighed. Apart from their pity, they were quite nice, I guess. Esme was the one that I was the most comfortable being with. She was loving and passionate, and I knew that she wanted to pamper me with all her power – but she didn't. She left me alone. Carlisle was kind, and he wasn't always at home. So that was nice. And Edward - the _mind-reader_. He was always getting in my business, thinking he knew me, that he understood me just because he could get into my mind. Ever since I'd heard him speak my name with so much disgust coloring his tone, I haven't particularly liked him.

There was a gentle knock on my door, but I didn't move a finger.

"Come in," my monotonous – yet musical – voice said.

The door creaked open.

"Rosalie," the velvet voice of Edward greeted me. "Have you already settled?"

"Leave me alone."

Edward sighed, but continued stubbornly. "Have you already looked into your closets? We took a few things from your previous home and got it here."

I narrowed my eyes, the startling red flickering. "Who's we?"

"Well, we. Esme, Carlisle and myself. We thought it would help you to adjust." I heard he was trying to sound nice and welcoming and maybe I should be grateful for that, but I wasn't in a grateful mood today.

"I don't want it. Get it out of this room."

"Why?" He sounded a bit irritated now, and I turned my head to finally look at him. I saw him slightly cringe at the venomous look in my eyes.

"For a mind-reader, you're really very oblivious to what's going on in my mind," I snapped. "I. Don't. Want. It." I spoke slowly, like talking to a mental person. Maybe he was one. He narrowed his eyes at this.

"Why? It was really hard for us to get those things. _Your_ things."

"Was it hard? You're sure you didn't just _steal_ it?" I hissed.

"We don't steal," he snarled back.

"Good for you," I cooed, then my voice turned harsh again. "Now, take my things and yourself and get out of this room."

Now, he was fuming.

"We do everything for you and yet you just sit here, _staring_ at yourself like you've gone insane!"

I snarled and stood up swiftly to face him head on. He growled back.

"Is your appearance really everything you care for? Are you _that_ shallow, you narcissistic beauty queen?"

"If you call me shallow again, I'll rip your miserable head from your body! You don't know anything about me!"

"No, I _do_ understand," he said, taking a step towards me, his eyes softening.

I backed away immediately. _What?_ He _understands?_ How dare he say that? _How dare you!_

"You don't know _anything_! You think you _know_ everybody by just raping someone's mind, but you don't! You nosy, idiotic know-it-all!"

He was positively snarling now, the feral sound ripping from his chest. The disturbing sound was quickly followed by a vicious growl that came from me. He crouched and I eagerly mirrored him, feeling like a fight, wanting to rip his head off and feeling like I could do precisely that with ease. I was ready to pounce on him, when the door opened with a bang. Esme flew in the room with wide, startled eyes. She moved to stand between us.

"What's going on in here?"

Edward pointed childishly at me. "You'd better ask her!"

"Me? What the hell did I do wrong?"

"Language, Rosalie," Esme scolded.

I chose to ignore her and hissed furiously at Edward. _You tell her, Eddie_. He snarled at the nickname. _Well, I'm not opening my mouth._ He narrowed his eyes.

"Well, what's going on?" Esme pressed.

Silence.

"Edward, tell me what happened."

_Ha ha,_ I laughed in my head.

"_Beauty Princess_ here," the tone of his voice made it very clear that he did not think of me as that and I hissed angrily. "She doesn't appreciate the effort we took in getting her clothes here," he continued sarcastically.

Esme frowned, and I almost felt guilty. Almost.

"I don't need it. I don't want it."

"But why not, honey?"

I felt like screaming my longs out. Are these people dumb or _what_?

"If I'm not going to be human any more, I don't want things here that remind me of the happy life I'll never ever have the chance of living again!" I shouted. "And now, leave me alone, for God's sake!"

**…**

I hated it. I absolutely resented it. Being _this_. Being a vampire.

_Damn it!_

I kicked my foot against a tree and it fell down noisily, bringing along smaller trees. Up until a few days ago, I didn't even believe they existed!

I didn't want this at all! The speed, the strength, the _bloodlust_. It was scaring me, and I didn't want any of it!

I settled myself on a rock and stared into the forest. I loved my time alone. Being without Esme's worrying glances, without Carlisle's questions and without Edward's obvious annoying tendencies, was a blessing like no other.

I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them.

Missing my family was a feeling I'd never imagined I'd ever have. Family was supposed to always be there for you, to support you through your darkest moments. And now that was taken from me like everything I'd always wanted. The only thing left from my human life was me. And I didn't want me if I didn't get to have all the other things. It was everything or nothing.

I'd never appreciated my family, and now it was too late. I wondered how they felt about me being gone without a trace. And Vera, how she would feel? Would they mourn me? I huffed. Of course they would.

And Royce. I hissed in hatred. He would never have to pay for his mistakes. He and his moronic friends would get away with absolutely everything. I clenched my fists. I couldn't and wouldn't let that happen.

**…**

"We're leaving in a week," Carlisle announced one day when Esme and Edward were out hunting.

I nodded absently and began counting in my head.

Carlisle moved to stand in front of me and looked me in the eyes. "How are you, Rosalie?"

His golden eyes were friendly, and it was very tempting to tell him everything. It would be so nice to share the memories that haunted me every minute of the day, my broken heart – the shattered pieces that were still stinging in my flesh – about how it felt when they…

No.

I couldn't stand his pity.

I flashed a brilliant smile.

"I'm truly fine, Carlisle."

"What about yesterday?"

My smile faltered a bit, but I secured it quickly.

"Edward was being annoying."

He cocked an eyebrow, but left it there.

My smile fell as soon as he turned around. Tonight I would begin.

**…**

I ripped through my closet, trying to decide what to wear. With every piece of clothing, memories stabbed me like a sharp knife.

My door opened, revealing a slightly panicked Edward.

"What are you doing?" he breathed, and he put his finger to his mouth and pointed downstairs where Esme and Carlisle resided.

_Great joy. The nosy mind-reader comes to stick his extremely long nose in my business. As usual._

He made a face at me and pointed at the dress I held in my hands. He cocked his eyebrow questioningly.

_Why are you asking? You must have seen my plan._

He nodded and grimaced.

"You really think this will help?"

_Yes_.

He waved his hand, indicating he wanted an explanation.

_Because I can't live with the idea that he'll – they'll – have the human live I'll never have. And it's their fault and they'll have to pay for it._

"And because you don't want them to make any more victims, right?" he whispered lowly.

I raised my eyebrows. Never really thought about that. The look on his face made me narrow my eyes at him. _Fuck off with your prejudices, Edward. I'm no superhero, nor am I planning to be. Why should I act like one?_

He shook his head. "Don't do this, Rosalie. You'll regret it."

I snorted and watched him cringe when I showed him the human memories of that night which should be foggy, but were everything but. I walked to the window and shot him a dark look.

"I don't think I will," I whispered.

I saw him nod before I leaped lightly out of the window.

The first one on my list was John – before he would go back to Atlanta. I found his house without much difficulty.

It was a pretty night. The moon and the stars provided an eerie, yellowish light though I didn't really need it to see, however. I quickly slipped in a dark alley. I changed into a short, sexy, red dress that barely covered my behind and put on black panties and red high heels. I dumped my old clothes into a dark corner.

I ran my hand through my hair and applied some lipstick and mascara, using a window as a mirror. I smiled creepily, my sharp teeth reflecting the moonlight. I wouldn't use _those_ weapons tonight, though.

Royce's friends were slightly less rich, so I wasn't surprised when I didn't encounter any guards. I scaled up his wall and slipped through the window with ease. I sneaked up the hallway, my heels making no sound at all. I creaked his door open and walked inside.

There he was, the vile beast. Sleeping in his bed like a toddler, his mouth a gaping, drooling gap, his entire body limp. I snorted, and he moved a little at the sound.

I'd imagined this completely different. I thought he would be awake and screaming, but here he was. Fast asleep.

I stalked toward his sleeping form and ran my long, red painted nail across his cheek.

Now, he did wake up and when he saw _me_ crouched over him, he jumped violently in shock. He opened his mouth to scream, but I clasped my hand over the offensive hole in one quick movement.

"Now, now. We don't want to wake up all of Rochester now, do we?" I whispered, my lips almost touching his ear. His eyes were wide with fear as he looked at me.

"What _are_ you?" he squeaked against my ice cold, stone hand. If it wasn't for _my_ ears, I wouldn't have heard him.

"Don't worry," I chuckled, my voice sounding like bells. "I'm not a ghost, although you did kill me in a way." With my free hand, I traced a light line on his bare arm, and I saw him shiver.

"In a way?" he breathed, absolutely terrified.

"Yes, in a way." I grinned widely, and I heard his heart stop and then flutter wildly at seeing my sharp, gleaming teeth.

"I'm worse than dead," I whispered, and I pulled my head back to let him see my eyes. Even in the weak light shining through his window, my irises were obviously red. He whimpered, and I saw tears gleaming in his eyes.

I leaped lightly on the bed, straddling the bastard between my knees, faster than his eyes could follow.

"What?" I asked when he gasped in shock. "Isn't this what you always wanted?" I snarled in his face.

His eyes grew wide and he whimpered.

"Yes. I think you do remember me, don't you? Rosalie Hale. Remember that name, asshole. Your memories will be the only thing you'll get to carry with you when you enter the burning fires of hell."

He was positively shaking now. I took my hand from his mouth, grabbed his neck with both of them and twisted viciously. I heard him sob, and then my ears were filled with a violent snap when his neck broke.

I was out of the window in the same second, running to my home, a wide smile on my face.

**…**

The following night went the same. And the next night and the night after that. The papers spoke of a serial killer, and they mentioned the words "revenge-kills" and "no bloodshed" and "night".

I enjoyed it thoroughly. The revenge, the fluttering heartbeats, the satisfying snaps of their necks. I even had the pleasure of hearing some of them cry.

And then… there was only one left.

I narrowed my eyes and a devilish smile spread across my face. _Finally_.

My original plan – to simply torture him and then finish him off – changed a bit when I discovered a pleasant surprise in my closet. I smirked and was out of the house in the next second, running towards my final revenge.

**…**

I looked up at his house. The moon was full, and it was shining down on me, making my abnormally white skin glow mysteriously.

I changed again. But not in the little red dress this time. No. My_ wedding dress._ I smiled wickedly. _God_, I loved drama.

I put on my make-up, turning my already-stunning face into a dazzling jewel.

Since I couldn't possibly enter through the small window in a wedding dress, I broke in old-school. He must have been expecting me, because in front of his door were two guards. I killed them easily and without a noise and hid them in a small closet.

I entered Royce's room and was surprised and angry to find it empty. _What?_ My excited smile disappeared, but then I heard the toilet flush and quiet footsteps coming closer.

I sniffed. _That's just superb._

My face lit up when yet another plan hit me, and I grinned like the devil himself. This was going to be fantastic.

I moved to a corner near the window and turned into a statue, my face expressionless. I stood perfectly still when the fiend himself entered the room. He yawned and turned his back toward me. He lit a candle that provided a scarce, flickering light, setting the mood just right. He looked at himself in the mirror and ran his hand through his filthy hair.

Suddenly, he froze, and my dead heart leaped in anticipation when his blue eyes saw me reflected in the mirror. I still didn't move, though.

Faster than I would have thought possible for a human, Royce turned to watch me straight on.

His eyes grew wide and his mouth turned into a terrified, unbelieving grimace. I heard his breathing hitch, and his heart accelerate, resembling a passing train.

I still didn't move.

He did. He stepped back, bumping his back against the mirror.

"Rosalie…?" he breathed, and his eyes wandered to the door, wondering where the hell his guards actually were.

It's strange, but I'd always thought I would feel a _little_ shaken now that I stood here facing him. But at the moment, I felt like a bird perched on a frail branch that could feel the twig bending under its weight, but still it wasn't afraid, because it knew it had wings.

I didn't respond and kept my face a mask and stepped forward, letting the moonlight caress me and allowing my skin to glow in return. Royce gasped and cringed in the mirror.

"What… what happened to you?"

How dare he ask that?

I smirked and was in front of him in less than half a second. He whimpered when I brought my face so close to his, our noses almost touched.

"_You_ happened to me," I whispered sinisterly.

"I…"

"Shh," I hushed and I stroked with my finger across his cheek. He grew more afraid when he felt my ice cold skin.

He opened and closed his mouth, looking like a goldfish. The flickering light of the candle threw shadows across my face, making it look more inhuman.

"Have you heard about your _dear friends, _Royce darling_?_" I breathed, enjoying the fact that I was playing games with his frail, little body.

He didn't move, petrified as he was.

"Well?" I asked menacingly. He whimpered again and nodded shakily.

"Two of them cried, you know. Will you cry? _Love_?" My voice broke on the last word and I masked it quickly with a low snarl. _You filthy, trashy, betraying son of a bitch!_

"What are you?" he whimpered.

I ignored him and let my nails touch his vulnerable neck. I could see the pumping artery there and my mouth filled with venom. I choked it back with difficulty. I couldn't believe that I had once thought I loved this worthless piece of trash. I had once found him handsome, charming. Now all I saw was a target to be disposed of.

I moved my head to whisper in his ear, my full, blood red lips almost touching the skin there.

"Guess." He shivered when my icy breath flowed over his skin.

"A… a ghost?"

"You're not very creative."

He stiffened.

"Alive?" His voice trembled horribly.

I was quiet for a while, allowing him to take me in. His eyes raked over my beautiful wedding dress, touched my golden hair and stopped on my red eyes. He sobbed.

I snarled viciously, and he screamed in terror.

"Alive?" I hissed furiously, my eyes blazing. I grabbed his wrists and pinned them against the mirror, which broke in the middle. Royce struggled to get loose and when he realized how strong I was, he screamed again.

"Alive?" I repeated. "You took that from me, _love_! Now it's your turn!"

He shook his head, and I could see tears falling over his cheeks. "Please, no, please."

I growled, and he flinched in fear at hearing the inhuman sound.

"Did you let _me_ go when _I_ begged you? No, you didn't. What the hell makes you think I'll listen to you?"

I threw him on the ground and had the pleasure of hearing a few bones snap. I crouched over him in the same second.

"Do you believe in heaven and hell, Royce?"

He nodded feebly, holding his injured wrists close to his body.

"Do you know where you'll end up?" I brought my face closer to his, my hair making a prison of melted gold with both of our faces trapped inside.

"I… I did good things, too… you know," he replied in a poor attempt to be defensive and brave.

I almost laughed out loud. "Good things? What's that, Royce? Bringing out the garbage? Letting out the dog? I don't think_ God_ will take that in consideration, seeing what you did to _me_," I bit out.

"Don't do this, Rosalie. You'll end up in hell, too!" he begged me.

I laughed madly. _Hell_? That was the _least_ of my worries.

"Nice try, Royce." I grabbed his neck as he tried to punch me and push me away. But this time I _was_ made out of steel, and he stood no chance.

"Goodbye," I whispered, feeling like I was saying my farewells not only to Royce, but to my human life as well. I jerked violently, and his sobbing silenced instantly.

* * *

**Thank you for reading again :) Don't forget to share your thoughts!**

**Ali: Thanks so much for your review :) I wanted to send you a pm, but you don't have an account, so therefor like this: Thank you and I hope you enjoyed this one, too.**


	6. No Hope

**Thank you Crimson Love20 for betaing, you're great :)**

**Disclaimer: I read somewhere you need to have a disclaimer in every chapter. Well, I think that's ridiculous, since it's very obvious I don't own Twilight. Well - for once and for all then: Twilight is not mine - obviously.**

**Enjoy reading - Rose**

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****NO HOPE**

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I sat on the couch, my eyes locked on Carlisle's, my hands stiffly intertwined on my lap.

"What did you expect from me, Carlisle?" I whispered roughly. "What did you think I could have done?"

Carlisle shook his head sadly, and Esme reached out her hand to lay it on top of mine.

"I understand why you did it, sweetheart," she said, looking into my red eyes without the slightest form of judgment. "But you should have come to us. We could have figured it out together. As a family."

I shook my head. "No. You would have never let me do it."

Carlisle put his hand on my shoulder and gave a calming squeeze. "We can't just kill everybody we hate. We're too powerful to take life into our own hands. It's not our job to play God."

His words stirred hatred in me that screamed to get out, that begged to be expressed in the form of harsh, bitter accusations: 'Why did _you_ play God, Carlisle? Why did you do this to me?' – but I decided to leave that for later, to keep _that_ pain away for now.

"But if you had come to us," he continued, "maybe we could have thought of some plan. They wouldn't have been killed, but they could have been locked away in prison. It's so difficult to decide what they deserved. What they deserved…" His voice sounded angry all of a sudden, his eyes flashing with the memories. "I understand why you did it, Rosalie. The way they… attacked… you was something nobody is supposed to experience. But you did." He looked at me with a burning intensity, his emotions clearly visible in his wide golden eyes.

"You did experience those horrors, and your anger… your grief… your need for revenge… it's the only logical thing to feel right now. And now you may feel you did the right thing by killing them, but you might feel different after a while, after some time. Maybe you'll regret your decision. If you'd have come to us, we could have made the decision together. And whatever outcome that would have had… we would be standing right behind you. That might have been better for you, instead of dealing with it on your own.

"We love you, Rosalie. And we'll always support you, no matter what. We'll always be there for you. Just… please come to us the next time you have such an important decision to make."

I looked up at him, and I felt an unexpected wave of gratitude flowing through me – his words had touched me in a way no words ever really had. I searched Esme's eyes, and she nodded.

"If he would be in prison right now…" Esme began.

Despite myself, I let out a shaky laugh, interrupting her. "Yeah, right. No one's going to believe that _perfect_ Royce rap…" I stopped and had to pull myself together for a moment. "He's the richest man in town. People only see what they want to believe."

"Nothing is impossible, sweetheart. But what I wanted to say was that if he was in prison right now, you wouldn't have to feel guilty later," Esme said, and she bent toward me and hugged me. "But I understand. We understand you, and we don't judge you."

"I won't ever feel guilty or sorry for killing them, Esme," I sighed. "I won't ever."

Carlisle put his hand on my head and stroked my hair gently. "I thought you would say that. We just hoped that there would be another way."

I pulled back and looked in his pained eyes. I knew he loathed violence and killing with his whole being, but it couldn't be done differently this time…

"It was the only way." I choked back a sob and held my head high. "It was the only way to forget."

But it wasn't enough. I didn't forget.

There was this one time – during the first weeks with the Cullens – when a thunderstorm raged over Rochester, and I had wondered how it would feel to be the sky. It still looked the same, but it had to feel something from the furious lightning and the vicious howling of the wind, right? It had to be hurting, right?

I stepped outside and walked to an open field. I stood there in the middle of that stupid field, my arms spread, my face up to the sky. I stood there for hours. But no lightning flash came my way, no fire bolt rushed down on me.

I doubt it would've hurt me if it had hit me.

But still I stood there, for hours and hours and hours. I was completely soaked when the storm stopped. With the lightning gone, it was completely dark. No stars, no moon, no burning tree. No nothing to light the night.

Even after the rain had stopped, even after the furious wind had calmed down, I kept standing. My hair and clothes were a complete mess, my make-up was streaming down my face replacing the tears my eyes couldn't weep any more.

I hadn't been hurt. I had never known what it was like to be the sky. To go numb from the electric shocks, to feel so heavy and oppressive.

Now I knew.

When I looked in the mirror I saw the same person staring back at me, and it just didn't feel right. There had to be _some_ change, right? There _had_ to be. Because if there wasn't, it was all for nothing.

But since I murdered Royce and his foolish friends, there wasn't anything different. The world _still_ turned its usual eclipse and the sun _still_ came up and went down every day. Only the newspapers spoke about it and when Esme and Carlisle read it, _they_ obviously spoke about it. But nothing else.

The world was still the same. And so was I.

It was so strange. I thought there would be _some_ relief, but I didn't feel it. I didn't feel anything. I was completely numb.

Relief is different for every person.

When Esme and Carlisle were done talking to me and hugging me even though they knew I wasn't the hugging type, I went up to my room and sat down on my bed again to stare at my reflection in the mirror. The sheets on my bed where I used to sit all those days before the killings were still ruffled, and there was a small dent were I just fit. It was like nothing had happened. But so much had happened. I just couldn't comprehend the fact that it was done. That they were _dead_.

I had felt sorry for a moment. Not for killing them – oh God no, how could I feel sorry for killing Royce? If I'd feel sorry it would be like I didn't fight hard enough, like I'd lost again. And that couldn't be right, because I knew only one way to fight and _hell_, that was vicious.

I didn't feel sorry for killing them, but simply for the fact that they were dead. Now, I couldn't let them suffer anymore.

Every night I came up with new ideas. I should've done _that_, I should've hit him like _that_, I should've said _this_. But now I couldn't do it anymore, and that was why I was sorry for them being dead. I should've put more planning into their murders.

I thought that killing them would make them disappear from the world. But they were still here, haunting me, talking to me. I thought about them every day. I couldn't seem to escape them. It was like having a nightmare, but now it wasn't just at night – when I used to sleep – but also by day.

It felt as if the world was still turning, but I was standing still.

**…**

"School?" I burst out. "_School_? You're joking, right?" Edward and I shared a surprised look. He was just as shocked as me.

Sadly, next to my own inner turmoil – real life had to continue, too.

Carlisle and Esme looked at me and Edward. Their faces were very serious – disturbingly so.

"If we're going for the human façade, you'll have to attend school. It's the only logical thing to do," Carlisle explained calmly.

Edward crossed his arms. "I'm not going."

Esme looked at me, and I shook my head furiously.

"With all the power in the world, you won't get me in a school."

"We'll tell the people we're homeschooled," Edward suggested, and I nodded my head, uncharacteristically enthusiastic.

Carlisle shook his head. "And attract even more attention? People will ask questions."

"So, we'll answer them. We'll make something up. Anything." I pointed at Edward. "He'll know when people will get suspicious." Edward nodded.

Esme and Carlisle shared a look, and they both shook their head.

"No. We'll have to move that much earlier, every time again."

Esme looked at me. "Think about it, dear. You don't like the move we're going to make now, but we'll have to move every time. And if we start at an older age, we'll have to move that much quicker, and therefore we have to do it more often. That's why you've got to go to school. Begin in junior year, and it's only two years."

I shook my head again. "No. That's two years too many. I'm not going. Absolutely not."

"And I'm not going on my own," Edward said. "And what if something happens? Rosalie's still a newborn."

"What if we slip?" I added.

Edward nodded. "What if some human trips and bleeds? You know how fragile they are."

"I won't be able to control myself," I said.

Carlisle nodded slowly, and I smirked.

"That's why we'll wait this year and probably next year, too. But after that, you'll both attend high school."

My smirk disappeared.

"No! I don't want to go to school. I don't want to sit with those stupid, blood filled humans!"

"Carlisle, please…" Edward begged. "What do you mean 'we don't have a choice'? We always have a choice!"

"Talk out loud, will you?" I snapped, annoyed. "For God's sake."

"Children, please humor us with this…" Esme said softly. "It would help so much."

"I'm a vampire, Esme!" I yelled, my arms raised in frustration. "A vampire isn't meant to live with humans!"

"To go to _school_ with them!" Edward shouted, backing me up, for once my ally.

"Listen, we can't force you to go." Carlisle looked at us calmly. "But it will save us so much trouble. We _have_ to act like humans, because if we don't, we'll attract attention, and you know we have to keep a low profile."

Edward started looking doubtful, and I snorted. So much for an alliance. _Traitor_.

"Like hell you're going to force me. I'm not going," I said to my new parents and glided up the stairs to go to my room.

"Rosalie, come back!" Esme called.

I turned halfway up and looked down on them.

"I think I've made my point clear," I said coolly. I crossed my arms and leaned against the banister.

"Yes, young lady, you have," was Carlisle's retort. "We'll take it in consideration, but we're not finished yet."

"How come?"

"Relationships," Edward said with a dutiful sigh.

"I don't get it."

"We have to have a story."

"We have that. You're the parents, we're the kids."

"Since you two are not planning to attend school, you'll have to be at least eighteen or nineteen. Esme, honey, shall we start at twenty-eight?"

"Well, we're moving early, so we can do thirty. It'll make you more convincing in the hospital."

"I'm the oldest," I said quickly. "I'm nineteen; Edward should be eighteen."

Edward rolled his eyes. "You're such a child."

I snarled menacingly, my temper rising very quickly. "Listen to who's talking."

"What are you saying?"

"Just that, _Eddie_."

"Children…" Carlisle tried to interject, hesitating, not really having the proper experience with fighting teenagers.

We studiously ignored him.

"Don't you have a mirror to stare into?" Edward suggested sarcastically. "Narcissistic tramp."

I hissed. "Speaking of tramps, don't you have a few to _drink _from?" That was way below the belt, and I knew it. I didn't really care about it, though.

"You ungrateful, prissy _brat_," Edward growled furiously, his mind no doubt flashing back to those horrendous four years of rebellion.

"Children!" Esme now said, absolutely livid. "If I _ever _hear such language again… Rosalie, if you ever say something like that again -" her blazing eyes turned to me "-I'll make sure you'll regret it, young lady."

She left the threat open, but it was loud and clear – Esme wasn't a mother to underestimate.

I avoided her eyes and glared at Edward until he finally caved.

"_Fine_, I'll be eighteen," he bit out, stomping out of the room.

_Haha_, I thought loudly, and I got the pleasure to hear him snarl and mutter a curse directed to me.

**…**

Later that night, when I was sitting in my room randomly flipping through a magazine, Edward slipped into my room. I looked up, irritated.

"What are you doing?" I asked when he sat down on a chair and looked at me with an unfathomable expression in his eyes.

He didn't answer but merely sat there staring at me. I sighed and closed the magazine impatiently.

"What?" I asked sarcastically. "You suddenly fancy me?" I cocked an eyebrow when he chuckled. _The idea of someone fancying me that funny, huh?_

He nodded, and I hissed, offended.

He rolled his eyes. "Not the idea of _someone_, but the idea of _me._ Why would I like you, when you seem to hate me?"

_Good question._

"Why do you hate me, though?"

I smirked. "You're a mind-reader. Can't you figure that out yourself?"

"I can only know it when you think about it," he said simply. His golden eyes looked at me innocently, and I sighed.

In my thoughts, I repeated the moment in my transformation where I'd heard him say my name with so much hatred. _It was the first time I heard you speak, Edward. The way you said my name, I don't think I've ever – in all my life – heard someone speak my name with so much disgust and distain._

Edward's lips quirked into a small smile. "I was shocked. It wasn't personal."

_Oh, really?_ I thought dryly. _You haven't done much to deserve my kindness._

"Oh, people have to _deserve_ your kindness? You know, Rosalie, with how egotistical you are, you won't find anyone who deserving of your kindness."

I snorted. _I don't think you'll find many friends either, Mr. Omniscient._

"Haha."

I wrinkled my nose, rejecting my own comment. _Who needs friends, anyway?_

"My point, exactly."

_Why are you here, Edward?_

"Would it hurt you to actually talk to me?"

I let out a laugh. "What, you don't love using your exceptional talent?"

He grimaced, and we kept silent for a long moment, having a private moment with our own thoughts.

_It's not just that, you know._

His head shot up, and his gaze penetrated mine. "What do you mean?" he asked warily.

I shrugged. "It's not just the fact that you spoke my name with so much disgust. If that was the only reason, that would make me an extraordinary bitch, wouldn't it?" I scoffed.

Edward shrugged one shoulder, not denying that.

This time I laughed with a bit more humor. _I don't hate you, Edward. You're my brother… in a way, I guess. I just love making fun of you because there isn't really anybody else who I can torment._

He rested his hand on his chest and said sarcastically, "Wow, that's great to know. Really heartwarming."

I snorted. _That's one of the reasons why I don't hate you. Our humor is the same– if you could call it that._

He pondered my words but leaned forward after a while. "So, what is it then?"

I sighed, flipped my hair back and looked him straight in the eye._ The reason why I don't embrace you every time I see you, Edward, is the fact that you hate this life every bit as much as I do._

He stayed frozen in his position for a few seconds, then sunk backwards with a deep, disappointed sigh. "That doesn't make any sense, Rosalie."

I rolled my eyes. "It does. You just don't see it."

"Show me the light then."

_If you enjoy this life, you would be reasonably happy, right?_

He nodded slowly, still confused.

_But… you aren't enjoying it. So you aren't happy. And it's not that I'm such a sensitive soul that I'm immensely affected by other people's depression, but the fact that you're sulking about this hell of a life every second of every day fits so perfectly well with my own feelings, that I don't see any reasons to adjust my own opinions._

"You're still not making any sense."

I hissed, annoyed. "Just _see_ it, damn it." _You're agreeing with me! You're agreeing with me that this life _is_ the hell it is. And I can't stand you for that! It's… so…depressing! _I shook my head. "I guess it doesn't make any sense for you, but it does for me. And that's just how it is." He still looked confused, and I raised my arms in frustration. _It's just… maybe if you would've been _optimistic_… maybe you would've had reasons to accept this life that I could've adopted as my own._ My mouth twitched at the word 'adopted', and I shook my head. _Got it? You could've been some sort of example for 'how to accept hell'. Now I don't have any to whom I can relate._

"That's just a thought, Rosalie," Edward sighed, beginning to understand. "It's a theory."

"Maybe. But it is the way it is."

"You should talk to Carlisle, you know. He'll have reasons galore for you."

I shook my head. "He's found peace, and you know it. You would've been the perfect example, because we both haven't found peace."

"Esme?"

"No, she's happy when Carlisle's happy and since Carlisle's already found a spot in the world…" I looked up at the ceiling and thought about my adoptive parents. They seemed so happy. How could they have so much faith in life?

"They believe in God, you know."

_You do, too, but I don't see you skipping around the house, wearing a smile all the time._

"They believe there's still a place for them in heaven."

I frowned. _That's ridiculous._

"You think that's ridiculous?"

_We're vampires._ I laughed grimly. _We're the demons described in the Bible. God won't invite us in his home, he's no idiot._

Edward frowned and looked to the ground.

_What_?

"That's exactly what I believe," he whispered.

I sat up straighter and looked intensely at him. _Explain that._

"I don't think we have souls anymore. How can we have souls? We're creatures who live off _blood_. We have to kill to survive." He sounded disgusted. "We're demons, like you said. And demons don't have souls."

_Hmm._ I shrugged hopelessly. _So… what you're saying is… there's absolutely no hope for us?_

He shrugged his shoulders and nodded, resigned.

I made a low sound in the back of my throat. _Sounds reasonable enough._

I stared at his hunched form in the chair. _Looks like we have something in common, little brother._

Edward chuckled darkly. "Great. That's such a relief."

It was quiet for a while then. I surprised myself when I realized that I actually liked this 'quality-time' I had with Edward now, however grim and sober it was. And following that thought came another one that escaped me before I could suppress it.

Edward snorted and looked up at me. "Are you kidding me?"

"I couldn't help it," I snapped.

"You don't like me because I'm not _attracted_ to you?"

I wanted to protest but stopped myself. No need to lie. So I shrugged. _It's only a small part of the equation, of course._

He blinked at my blunt honesty.

I looked him in the eye, all sarcasm aside. _Yes._ "And I know it's ridiculous, because I wouldn't even _want_ you to be attracted to me. But it's just… it's so strange." _It's so weird to meet a man who isn't interested in me that way._ I thought about the time where Edward had expressed his annoyance at my presence, and how I had felt slightly ashamed and greatly offended at his disinterest. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Edward raised his eyebrow at me.

_I've been way too honest with you. _

He snorted. "We were just talking, Rosalie."

_My point exactly_, repeating his words from earlier.

He shrugged, staring at the wall. "It's what siblings are supposed to do."

I grabbed my magazine, still feeling a little heated from the confessions I'd made. _You can let yourself out, right?_ I thought, lacing the words with sarcasm.

"You sure are courteous, aren't you?" he sneered as he stood up.

I opened the magazine and smirked. "Just being myself, Edward. You should understand that by now."

I heard him huff before he closed the door and left me alone with my jumbled thoughts. I tried to focus on my magazine but couldn't see the letters anymore. What I'd just said to Edward was the truth, but it wasn't until now that I'd thought it through like that.

I threw the magazine in a corner and pulled my legs to my chest. I wrapped my arms around them and rested my head on my knees. A strand of hair fell across my face. _It's not fair._ I blew the golden curl away and turned my head to lay my cheek on my knees. _It's not fair._ I squeezed my eyes shut. It_'s _not_ fair._

**…**

Everything that goes up goes down again, doesn't it? It's one of the laws of nature that you can't disobey.

Well, I went down. In fact, I'm still going down.

But isn't it the same in reverse? Meaning that everything that goes down rises again? Like the rising of a fallen angel. Doesn't that exist?

Because I'm done falling. I'm really, really tired of it. It's wearing me out, turning me into a rotten tree – pretty on the outside, hollow and eaten on the inside.

When is it my turn? Because I'm ready for it. Bring it on. Repair these broken wings and teach me how to fly again.

When does my rising begin?

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**Thank you for reading and don't forget to leave your thoughts behind!**


	7. Pain

**Hi, you guys :) I'm sorry it took so long, but school has appearently started in America, so my sweet beta Crimson Love20 has been very busy with that. I'm very, very grateful she took the time betaing this; Thank you! My own school is going to start in a week, so, I'll be busy with that then too.**

**In this chapter: some Esme-Rosalie bonding! **

**Happy reading!**

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****PAIN**

_I love my mother as the trees love water and sunshine - she helps me grow, prosper, and reach great heights._  
_**Terri Guillemets**_

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**.**

Our next home was in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. We went by car, and I was condemned to sit next to Edward for at least twelve hours. After the bickering when we found out about that hugely irritating fact, we both bought a few car magazines to be sure we'd have _two_ cars for the next time we'd have to move.

I quickly came to the stunning discovery that I actually liked cars. The numerous vehicles were in so many different shapes and forms and each of them seemed to have their own personality. My interest didn't end with the mere appearance of the car, however. No – after reading a short article about the complex mechanics, I surprised myself even _more_ to find out that I was more interested in the boring, grey motors than the nicely shaped exteriors.

Bu the nicely shaped exteriors were very important, too.

"Look at this one," I pointed at the beautiful jade green Mercedes my eyes had caught.

"This one goes faster," Edward said, not looking up, having seen the picture in my head.

"But I want this one. I'll make it go faster," I murmured. I'd have to find a book about mechanics for that, though. I smiled. _Something to do_.

Edward snickered. "You'll need many cars to practice, right?"

I smirked. "If you put it like that… I'll add this BMW, then."

"And I the Porsche," Edward said eagerly, flipping the pages quickly and avidly.

I looked up when I heard a quiet chuckle. "Children, not too many, please," Esme said with a gentle smile. In the rear-mirror I saw Carlisle gazing at us with a strangely hopeful expression.

A tearing sound came from my left and I turned my head to see a furious looking Edward holding his ripped magazine in tightly clenched fists.

"Carlisle, stop the car." His voice sounded like an axe chopping through trees with curt, sudden angry thuds.

Esme looked confused, and I was sure I didn't look any different. Carlisle's expression turned into one of disappointment and the look of a toddler who realized he was caught in the act.

When the car stopped, Edward immediately jumped out, followed closely by Carlisle.

"No, I don't understand!" Edward yelled suddenly. "This is _unbelievable_!"

Esme and I shared a confused look in the mirrors, and I opened my door – the sudden squall from outside messing up my hair. I tucked the loose strands behind my ears and stood next to Esme when Edward hissed.

"_You just thought that_…"

"Edward. We were only trying to help you."

"_Help me_?" He really was beyond furious. He looked like the storm I saw that night so long ago. His eyes black as the night, his voice the furious thunder and his face the storm itself. "I think I'm _perfectly_ capable of finding a mate on _my own_, thank you very much! You don't get to decide that! You can't just change _her_ and expect me to _like_ her!"

All sorts of emotions flashed through me, heating me from the inside out and producing a growl that vibrated through my body when my lips released it. I felt horribly betrayed – again.

"_Excuse me_?" I snarled, anger making itself present in my voice and my expression.

Esme and Carlisle turned to me with a miserable and guilty look on both of their faces.

"You're saying that you _saved_ me," I pointed accusingly to Carlisle, "just so that I could serve as a _girlfriend_ for _Edward_?" My voice raised in volume with each word. How tremendously wrong could one person be?

"Rosalie, you've got to understand…" Carlisle began, his regretful eyes begging me to hear him out.

"No, no. I understand, alright," I stared him right in the eyes, shaking with anger. "You told me the other day that we're not allowed to play God, but what the hell did you do then? How do you justify _that_? You should've let me _die_, Carlisle!"

I heard Esme gasp, and I felt her arms around my shoulders.

"Don't you think that, Rosalie Hale! Maybe you and Edward aren't right for each other, but we still love you as a daughter."

Carlisle looked down and hung his shoulders – the perfect example of regret and abashment.

"I'm so sorry, Rosalie," he sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I understand if you'll never forgive me for this, but I couldn't let you lie there. And I just thought you two were good for each other," Carlisle said, his voice practically soaked with guilt. His gaze flickered from me to Edward.

"Well, weren't you wrong," Edward hissed, and he ran toward the forest. "I'm going for a hunt."

Carlisle sighed and followed him into the trees.

I was absolutely speechless. Here I thought I had come into a family who cared about me. Turned out they only cared about me as a _mate_ for Edward. It felt like someone had punched me in the chest and had left me gasping for breath. I was hurt and humiliated and the betrayal felt awfully much like that other betrayal of Royce.

And then there was Edward's repulsion. What was wrong with him? Was he gay? He must be. It's the only explanation for him being repulsed of me, unless he was blind, but obviously that wasn't the case. I honestly didn't get it, what man was _not_ attracted to me?

Everything was so out of perspective now that I was a vampire, it was nerve-wrecking.

A small, regretful voice broke the temporary silence.

"Rosalie, I can't tell you how sorry we are. We just hoped Edward and you…"

"Yeah, yeah. That's why you hoped I could stay, right? Well, I guess I've got to go my own way now, right?" I noted hatefully. In truth, I had no idea where to go on my own, and the thought of being alone scared the hell out of me far more than I would care to admit.

Esme hugged me closer to her body.

"No. I love you as my daughter," she whispered intensely. I looked up at her. "I've always wanted a girl and you're… you've come as a true gift. For both Carlisle and me. Don't ever forget that, Rosalie."

I looked angry at her. "Listen Esme. I like you, I really do. And I like Carlisle. It's just…" I laughed humorlessly. "You were so horribly _wrong_. It's… Edward… I don't even _like_ the guy! It's actually laughable you thought he and I could form a couple."

Esme grimaced. "Yes, we noticed that. You two are so terribly stubborn. That's why we were so happy that you and Edward had at least one thing in common – well, apart from your stubbornness, that is. But we thought… maybe if you had more time with each other…" She shook her head sadly. "We didn't want Edward to find out, though. I think Carlisle slipped in his thoughts."

I frowned and looked away.

"We don't want you to leave, Rosalie. We want you with us. Please, stay?" I looked at her, and she was staring at me with wide eyes, apparently scared out of her mind by the idea of me leaving their little _family_.

I wondered what would happen if I said no to her. And when I opened my mouth to answer, I thought for one wild moment that the word was going to slip out. I often wondered what my life would have been like if I had told her no.

But did I have a choice?

I turned away from her. "Whatever," I mumbled grudgingly. There really wasn't any other alternative, was there? Where was I to go when I was alone?

**…**

The rain was clattering on the roof of the garage, rattling on the half-open garage door, while Edward and I worked on the beautiful Mercedes we'd managed to purchase – for once working in sync. I sneaked a look outside and saw the green trees bending deeply from the weight of the falling water.

Edward used the jack to lift the car so he could crawl underneath it. Unconsciously, he'd started humming, and the soft notes joined the ticking of the rain, together contributing to the peaceful atmosphere we'd created here – the one place we could work together without fighting.

I opened the cap to work on the motor. I planned to get it all out and replace it with another model we'd already ordered that should be arriving any day. It was a motor with much more power, and I grinned, imagining the speed the Mercedes would be able to reach once it was installed. I was up to my elbows covered in grease when the door leading to the house opened. I looked around to see Esme walking in. She wore a friendly grin and – to my growing suspicion – her old clothes.

Edward groaned and peeked his head from under the car to look at her. "Esme, what are you planning? What are you hiding?"

_What's she thinking about?_ I asked, slightly amused now. Esme and Carlisle had mastered a way of keeping Edward out of their thoughts that I wanted to learn desperately.

"She's humming a song," he muttered, disgruntled, while he got up and wiped the dirt of his clothes, for as far as it would come off.

"It's not for your ears, Edward," Esme sang, smiling.

I shrugged and said sarcastically, "As long as it doesn't include relationship therapy with _that_," I pointed vaguely to Edward, "I'm fine." Edward chuckled – not at all offended.

I'd come a long way since the co-reason for my change was revealed. From hateful and sad, I'd gone to sarcastic and halfway-accepting of it.

Esme grimaced a little but was quickly smiling again. "No, no relationship therapy. Rosalie, I was wondering if you would want to go hunting with me. Just us girls."

I looked out the garage to the pouring rain and frowned. "It's raining, Esme. Can't we go some other time?"

Esme followed my gaze. "It's just a little rain, Rose. Come with me, please?" She smiled gently.

I rolled my eyes and left my unfinished work reluctantly. "I guess I'm going to change, then. Edward," I said, turning to him. "Don't you dare break anything."

He huffed and crawled back under the car. "I'll _try_."

Once I was in some old clothes, and the grease was washed off my hands and arms, I joined Esme, who was already standing in the garden, face up to the rain.

"Why do you like the rain so much?"

She turned to me, smiling. "What's not to like about it? It's refreshing." She pointed to her garden. "Don't you see how beautiful nature is when it's raining? Everything sparkles and lives." Her eyes twinkled when she looked at me again.

"Well, I'm not a plant, and I don't like it. It makes everything muddy," I said, gesturing to the wet ground.

Esme shook her head and whispered conspiratorially, "Sometimes it's better to see the brighter side of things, Rosalie."

I ignored that comment. "Why do you want to go hunting with me?"

She shrugged and smiled warmly. "Well, you almost always go hunting alone, and I didn't think that was very fun. I thought a little mother-daughter time would be good for you. I don't want you to feel excluded from this family, Rosalie. You're just as important as everyone else is."

I sighed and with half a smile, I pointed to the forest. "Okay, let's go hunting, then." I tried to lay as much enthusiasm into my tone as I was capable of.

Esme laughed. "Let's." She grabbed my arm and together we ran deep into the wet forest.

Esme had a point about nature being beautiful when it rained. It was pretty. The raindrops glued to everything they landed on and as a result, everything glistened and sparkled. And yes, it did make it appear more alive. I sniffed the air and was surprised at what a difference the rain made. It seemed like the rain accentuated the scents of the plants and flowers, and the air was thick of sweet and fresh aromas.

Suddenly Esme stopped, and I narrowly avoided crashing into her. She pointed toward a herd of deer that were grazing in a curtain of rain, their fur dark and heavy with water. One of them looked around with half-closed eyes but decided the group was safe of danger and bowed back to the grass.

Esme and I crouched and simultaneously began stalking through the greenery towards our prey. We let our instincts take over our normally-composed selves, letting it erase all the human traces we had left for the moment. When I could smell the blood as though it was in a pool directly below my feet, and I could taste the sweet fluid as if it was already poured out on my tongue – I pounced.

I broke the neck of the unfortunate animal in one quick movement – just like I broke Royce's – and slashed its artery open with my teeth. I drank greedily and parted from Esme to search for another prey. The herd had long but fled, their scent masked by the rain. I didn't need to find them, though.

My nose had caught something else, and I followed the fresh trail eagerly. At the end I found the mountain lion that was clearly wounded, the blood running softly over his fur, spilling on the earth. It was dead and drained in three seconds.

My hunting frenzy finally flowed away, and with a jolt I took in the mess that I'd made.

The mountain lion was no longer recognizable as the proud animal it had once been. It lay in pieces at my feet, scattered on the brushwood like it was a glass that had fallen on the ground. I swallowed thickly and could not help remembering Edward's words from nearly a week ago.

_I don't think we have souls anymore. How can we have souls? We're creatures who live off blood, we have to kill to survive._ His head had unconsciously moved from right to left, his face scrunched up in disgust. _We're demons. And demons don't have a soul._

_Don't have a soul._

A sob escaped me, searing through my body and bringing me to my knees. _I don't have a soul._ I buried my face in my hands. _No soul._ I moaned and shook my head.

"Here you - Rosalie?" Esme's voice went from relieved to anxious in one breath and before I knew it, I felt her arms around me and heard her voice making hushing sounds. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" She pulled me to my feet, and I was grateful that she led me away from the bloody scenery. The bloody mess _I_ had made.

We sat on a rock, and she ran her hand through my soaked, golden curls. "Talk to me, Rose."

I shook my head and wound my arms around myself, trying to squeeze something very depressing out of me.

"What's wrong? You can tell me." Esme's whispers were barely audible through the noise the rain made.

I shook my head again, and another sob left my lips. She pulled me close, and I laid my head on her shoulder.

"It's not fair," I softly whimpered. "It's not fair."

Esme kept silent, holding me tightly.

"Don't you miss it, Esme?" I whispered eventually. "Don't you miss being human?"

Esme was quiet for a while, and I pulled away to look at her. Her face was concentrated, and when she met my eyes, she sighed.

"I don't, Rosalie."

"Why not?" I cried out. I didn't believe her, and I wanted her to be honest with me. "Why don't you miss being human? I don't get it!" I stood up and began to pace and gesture wildly into the rain. "It's not _fair_. I never asked for this! I don't want to be a goddamned vampire!" I yelled to the grey sky.

I flashed to Esme's side and knelt in front of her, cradling her hands in my own. "Don't you remember it, Esme? Being human? Sitting together with your family in the living room, warm and cozy, the crackling of the hearth, the soft sound of laughter coming from your brothers, your _parents_," I sobbed. "Oh _God_, my _parents_." Another sob and another one and all too soon the sobs didn't come sparsely anymore. They just kept coming, one after the other, a waterfall of sobs . "My _family_. Don't you… _miss_ it, Esme? The future that had once looked you straight in the eyes? The dreams you once had? All ripped away, gone."

Esme looked at me wide-eyed, and her bottom lip trembled slightly.

"Don't you miss it?" I hissed, demanding an answer.

I hadn't believed her earlier words, and I fully expected her to agree with me – to hold my hands, look me in the eye and nod. A firm, solid nod. A nod that said, "Yes, you're right, Rosalie. I hate it, too. I hate it so much." And she would do something, she would say something that would make me feel all better again, because that was who she was. In the scarce time I'd come to know Esme, I had learned that she was a loving soul, a born mother, someone that would go through fire just to make her beloved ones happy. And I was one of her beloved, right? So she would think of something, she would help me get through this. She would _nod_, she would say… "_Yes, this is hell"_.

But then… _then_ she shook her head, and her lips formed a word I couldn't understand in this context, that rocked me of the last stable platform my feet were standing on.

"_No_."

I stared at her for a long ten seconds, during which her answer settled itself in my mind, sank to my stomach, echoed through my thoughts. No_. No_. _NO_.

"No?" I breathed, my voice almost drowning in the rain. I felt the drops seeping from my collar to my skin, making a long, itchy trail across my back. But I couldn't pay any attention to that, because Esme… Esme had said… she'd said…

She shook her head again. "No." Her voice quivered with emotions.

I let go of her, and my hands fell limply on my lap. I still stared at her, couldn't let go of her gaze, desperately trying to find the lie in those golden irises. But I couldn't find it. I couldn't find any.

"No," I stated flatly. Not a question, just a statement.

She shook her head for the third time, but slowly now, as if that would make it more understandable. "I don't miss it," she whispered, and she let herself fall from the rock to kneel opposite of me. She cradled my face in her hands. "I don't miss it, Rosalie, because I have my family_ right here_. I don't miss it because my human life wasn't a nice life. I don't miss it because I have Carlisle. I have Edward, and I have _you_." She studied my face intently.

"_You_ are my family. _You _are my dreams, my future."

I shook my head. "I'm not your family," I whispered back. "I'm not your daughter. I'm just here because Carlisle changed me for Edward. If Edward hadn't needed me, I would be dead. I would be what I was supposed to be. Dead and buried."

"Don't say that." The fierceness of her voice and her gaze startled me. "Don't say that. I already told you that I love you as a daughter. I _love_ you, Rosalie Lillian Hale. And I know for one that Carlisle would have saved you anyway, even if Edward already had a whole harem of girls," she chuckled hastily. "Don't you see it, Rosalie? We _all_ love you."

I moaned – a low, husky sound that seemed to vibrate through my bones. "That's not _enough_, Esme. I want my life back. I want my _human_ life back. Can't you give me that?"

Esme rested her forehead against mine and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Can't you give me that?" I repeated dully.

I don't know how long we sat there, face to face, our fingers entangled, finding some sort of solace with each other – when finally, Esme spoke.

She clenched her hands tighter around mine and in reaction to that, I lifted my head to look at her.

"I can't… give you that," she said slowly, and her face contorted as if every word pained her to the core. "Carlisle and I can't give you that back and we're…" She shut her eyes firmly before looking at me with the deepest expression of regret I'd ever seen on someone's face,"… so… _sorry_… for having done this to you. But we can't take it back. We can't turn back time." She withdrew her hands to pull me into a warm hug. "But we assure you that we _can_ give you a _family_. You belong with us now, Rosalie. You are a daughter of me and Carlisle's, and you're a sister to Edward. You have a place here, with us. Don't ever,_ ever_ forget that." She stroked my hair.

"I love you," she whispered.

I clenched my jaw, but it didn't work – I started crying again and this time, Esme held me to her body, rocking me unconsciously, soothing me and stroking my back and my face and my hair.

"What was it like for you?" I hissed through clenched teeth, trying my hardest to keep the uncontrollable sobs away.

"What do you mean?" Esme said in a gentle and soft voice. She was holding me so close to her body I could feel her chest vibrating while she talked – it had a weird, soothing effect.

"Being human."

"Oh." Her breath left her mouth with a short huff.

"We all have stories. What's yours?"

"I don't think this is the right time for it, dear," she said, stroking my cheek.

"I want to know," I said harshly.

After a long period of silence, she finally caved.

"Fine," she whispered. Her grip on me tightened slightly and it took her a while to rearrange her thoughts.

"I was born in Columbus, Ohio, in 1895. It was always my big dream to move to the West and teach children. I've always loved children. Sadly, my father didn't go along with it. He told me that it was an unrespectable thing to do. A lady shouldn't live alone, he told me. Especially not in the West.

"My parents gave me away to Charles Evenson when I was twenty years old." Her voice had a hint of anger in it. "He was a friend of the family, and he was wealthy, had a promotion coming his way. My father didn't have to think twice. I was married at twenty."

Now, her grip on me started to get a little painful, but I stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt this side of Esme I hadn't ever seen before.

"He was an arrogant bastard," she continued ruefully, running her fingers through my hair absentmindedly. "People thought he was nice and all, and I was reasonably happy to be married to him. But then we came home, and he…" Her normally friendly face twisted into a mask of anger and hurt. "He started hitting me over foolish things – folding clothes the wrong way, being too clumsy… But I kept quiet – God knows I should have said something to my parents or my friends – but I didn't, because that wasn't how I was brought up.

"It was such a relief when he had to fight in the War. I had the house alone, and I actually found myself enjoying it – although the fear of his return never quite left me. When he came back, he was no different. Hitting, swearing, calling me names…"

It was unnerving to see Esme so sad and hurt and hateful. I could fully relate with her, and I felt deeply sorry for her. There was some sort of bond forming between us, at this sad moment where we shared our pain. We understood each other. I felt content being with her. Esme was... finally my mother. I hugged her back, and we leaned into each other, finding comfort in each other's company.

"I found out I was pregnant," she whispered, the pain clearly visible on her face, "and I decided to run. I didn't want to bring up my child in such a violent environment. I ran and finally became a schoolteacher on a school in Ashland. For the first time since my marriage, I was happy."

Suddenly she giggled, and the sound was so out of line, I quickly glanced up at her.

"You know I was afraid of dogs when I was a child?"

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you're going to explain, because I have no clue how this is related to your story."

She didn't respond to my comment but continued with a far-away look in her eyes. "The dog of our neighbors chased me one day when I was sixteen. I climbed into a tree and waited the whole day for the stupid mutt to walk off. When it finally left, I fell down trying to climb out. I broke my leg and had to go to the hospital. You know who treated me?" She smiled. "The most handsome doctor I'd ever seen in my life. His name was Dr. Carlisle Cullen."

I looked at her incredulously. "Looks like you didn't just hurt your leg, Esme," I said dryly.

"No, it's true. I fell in love instantly." Her small smile disappeared when she continued her story where she had left off.

"When my baby was born I was so delighted, and I was so happy being a mother." Her voice trembled. "But a few days after his birth my baby died of an infection."

My breath caught in my throat, and I cringed in shock. She must have been devastated. I couldn't imagine losing something as precious as that.

"I was destroyed. He was all I had. I jumped off a cliff to end my life," she said with a small smile I couldn't understand. "You can guess who found and rescued me, I think?"

Understanding hit me then. "Dr. Carlisle Cullen," I murmured. _Dr. Cullen, here to save your life, free ride to Hell, jump on board, kids…_

"That's how it was for me," she ended simply. "My own angel came to save me. We married shortly after my newborn year was over."

She kissed me on the top of my head.

"I left my past in the past," she whispered, "because, now, I focus on the things I _do_ have, and those things are so _good_. Maybe you should focus more on the happier things, Rosalie. Maybe that'll help you."

"But what if I can't," I choked. "Because I just can't forget how he… they…" I hissed and pressed myself closer to Esme.

"It takes time, honey, and it's been only a few weeks for you, barely three months. It's hard, but allow me to help you. Allow _us_ to help you."

I said nothing and closed my eyes.

The rain had finally stopped, and the deafening silence that followed left a loud ringing in my ears that quivered through my whole body. It only served to emphasize my dark mood.

* * *

**Thank you for reading and _please_ leave some love behind, it'll motivate my writing :)**

**And btw... Can you guess what the next chapter is going to bring? That's right, Emmett!**

**Love - Rose**


	8. Love

**Hi everyone! I'm so excited to post this chapter; Emmett's finally here! Crimson Love20 did an amazing job - as usual - on this one and I'm so grateful to have her as a beta :)**

**Enjoy reading!**

**

* * *

****LOVE**

_If it is meant to be, our hearts will find each other when we meet. And if our hearts melt together, so will our bodies and souls. Then every word and every touch will fuel our passion flame. I will be yours, you will be mine, and we will be one.  
_**Source Unknown**

.

.

It took Carlisle two-hundred and fifty years, Jasper found it after nearly a century; Edward was the same. As for me? I found my true love in less than two years.

Love.

How much do you avoid it, how many times do you stop yourself from thinking about it… it's really something you can't get around, isn't it?

Love is… nothing I've ever experienced. I _thought_ I had it, but I was formidably wrong. Love doesn't come with banners or flashing lights, like it had back then. It comes quietly, so if you hear any bells ring, you know you're wrong. And if it doesn't come quietly, it comes with a fight.

Yes, I guess that's it. You've got to fight for love. And not only that, but you've got to _want_ to fight for it. You _need_ to fight for it, because if you don't, the object of your love will be gone before you know it, and you'll stay empty-handed for the rest of your life.

How do you know if you need to fight for it? It's something you feel, an intuitive, instinctive reaction you have. You don't know why you're doing it at the moment itself, but later you'll be thankful you did it. Because if you hadn't done it, you'd be nothing now.

I'd be nothing now if I hadn't fought. I would've stayed behind alone and just… been nothing.

He brought happiness into my life, like the sun brought light on the Earth. Yes, that is _exactly_ how bright Emmett shines.

He was everything I wasn't, and everything I needed.

**…**

"Edward, let me do that," I said, heated, and I tried to grab the tool from his hand, but he saw the plan in my head and avoided my hands easily.

We were working on yet another car and for the first time since we'd started with mechanics, we couldn't find the peaceful atmosphere in our work. Maybe it was because the sun had been out for a full week now, and we were skittish from being locked up in the house for seven long days. Maybe it was because I was irritable from having just leaked oil on my favorite pair of shoes that I'd forgotten to trade for an older pair. Maybe it was… Edward – definitely Edward.

"Don't be so childish, Edward," I growled. "It's mine. I bought it. Only I get to touch it."

"And I thought that family is supposed to share everything," he said mockingly.

"Don't flatter yourself," I snapped, and I went for the tool again. He didn't avoid me this time, and I snatched it out of his hand. My eyes scanned the book quickly, then went back to the new BMW. "So this is supposed to go… there," I murmured, trying to figure out – and doing so rather quickly – how to switch a small part of the motor with something else. "Hold up the car for me," I ordered Edward.

He did what I asked with a cynical look in his eyes. My own eyes had turned golden in the past two years, making me the most beautiful, flawless creature in the universe. I crouched so I could get under the car.

Edward huffed at my thoughts.

_Now what?_

"We're going to move in a few years, so you'll have a new city to conquer with your 'flawless beauty'."

"Shut up, _Eddie_, and hand me that." I pointed to a few cables just out of my reach.

"It's so tedious to look at you ruining the car," he said, diligently ignoring me, and he looked to the garage door with a longing expression.

"Don't you dare leave, Edward. You broke the jack, so _you'll _have to replace it. And I'm _not_ ruining the car."

"You are. If you change that part you'll…"

"I'll make the car shift gears smoother," I grumbled, finishing his sentence for him. "What a disastrous crime."

He made a face and handed me the cables. I worked in silence for a few moments, while Edward hummed a song. He moved, holding the car up with his feet, and I saw him play on a imaginary piano.

"Enjoying yourself?" I asked with a sneer – for the first time being irritated with his quiet humming.

"Immensely."

I snorted. _Right_.

"You know what?" he asked. "It's fun and all, but I'd still rather have working cars than cars you have to repair."

"This _is_ a working car. I'm just perfecting it," I muttered, getting irritated with his presence. "Now shut up."

He sighed and pulled back his feet, letting the car fall. As fast as lightning, I dropped my tools and caught the car before it could hit the ground. I slipped out from underneath it and pounced on Edward with an angry snarl. He avoided my blow lazily.

_What's wrong with you, Edward?_

"I'm going to leave you alone with your new _love_," he teased.

"Go to hell, Edward."

"Already there, remember?"

_True_. "Get your ass out of here," I snapped, throwing a mole grip after him.

A moment after he left, I heard the music flowing out of his piano, the musical notes soothing my anger a bit. I'd played the piano a few times and found that I was really enjoying it. I just thought playing with cars was far more interesting and challenging. When I was working on a car I was solely focused on the car and no other unwanted thoughts could seep into my mind. It was my relaxing time.

After I was done with the BMW I went inside to clean up a bit. I washed the oil and the grease from my skin and changed into some other clothes.

"You tell Esme and Carlisle I'm gone for a hunt, okay?"

"They'll be here in less than an hour - we could all go together," Edward said, not stopping his playing.

"No, I'm going alone."

"Fine by me."

"It's truly _fabulous_ to have your permission."

"I didn't mean it like that," he snarled, the notes he was playing considerably harder and faster in his irritation.

"Whatever. I'm off."

"Have fun on your own!"

I sent him a mental _fuck you_ and jumped out of the window.

The first animal I encountered was a bear – which wasn't exceptionally strange since it was bear season. Occasionally I came across the sweet scent of humans, and I hoped the bear hunters would stay away from me when I was in the hunting frenzy. Once in, I wouldn't be able to get out. I absolutely didn't want my eyes to be red; they made me flawed again.

I drained the bear quickly, feeling the warm flow of blood running through my body at an exhilarating speed.

I wandered further, not really looking for more game, but just enjoying the feeling of being alone. I smelled another bear and began to follow the trail at a slow pace.

Suddenly another scent hit me, and this scent was so much more potent – much stronger and more delicious than any animal could ever dream to smell like. Forcing my instincts to the smallest corner of my mind, I turned in a flash to run.

A scream stopped me from the actual running, however. _The human was still alive?_ I grabbed a branch of the nearest tree and turned agonizingly slowly, my mind spinning and racing, all thoughts centered around one thing: _What do I do?_

As another scream rang through the forest, I put one step towards it. I squeezed the branch so firmly, it crumbled in my hands. The third scream carried itself with so much pain, despair and agony, I decided I _had_ to figure out what was going on. I held my breath and walked further to examine the situation.

I climbed over a rotten log and leaped over a small, gurgling brook – slow and cautious all the time, carefully monitoring my body's reactions. I stepped around a tree, and what I saw there made my mouth immediately fill with venom.

_Blood_.

So much _blood_. It was absolutely _everywhere_. On the bear, on the brushwood, on the trees… in a puddle underneath the bleeding human from who I could only see a leg. A very, very _bloody_ leg.

I crouched instinctively, but almost instantly I straightened up, not wanting to give in to my vampire self. _I'm not going to kill a human_, I told myself firmly. _I'm not_.

I closed my eyes to gain some control and counted slowly to ten. When I opened my eyes again, the bear had moved to the other side of the dying human, and I could see his face clearly.

My eyes grew wide with shock and so many emotions flashed through me that I could barely keep up with them.

Recognition. Awe. Pain. Heartbreak. Longing. Shock.

Especially shock.

My mouth opened and closed, but it was my mind that formed the name that my lips couldn't form any more. _Henry_? But that was impossible! He would be two right now. And he… he… the man… the _human_…

_Can't die._

Without a second thought I leaped forward, pouncing on the bear with a vicious snarl and sending it flying into a tree. The bear fell lifelessly to the ground, but I didn't see it hit the grass, for I had turned to the bleeding human in less than a second.

He was utterly beautiful, even in this state of pain. He was also thoroughly soaked in blood. His brown, curly hair was covered in it, as were his face, his clothes, his body… his _absolutely gorgeous_ body. His clothes were ripped and torn, and I could see the strong muscles flexing in agony.

For the first time in my life I felt it then – the fierce rush of emotions, making my stomach sink, and my head float. The absolute certainty that his man, this particular person – out of all the people in the world – couldn't possibly _die_. He couldn't; he wasn't allowed to! Because this person, this man, this beautiful individual was _mine_.

He grimaced and the dimples that showed reminded me of Henry again and my heart melted – just like when I'd seen them on the little baby.

He can't die. He _can't_.

I carefully scooped him up in my arms and began to run, trying my hardest not to jostle the wounded human too much. I ran and ran and ran, faster than I ever had before. I flashed through the forest, leaped over brooks and rivers… all the way back home.

And the whole way I told him to "hold on", to "please, please, please hold on". I murmured and begged, not even sure he could hear me.

Because I _knew_ that if he died, that if he gave up… it would be a devastating disaster. The world would end, the sun would stop rising every day, the light of the stars would fade to darkness.

It was like my heart had expanded. I hadn't known I was able to care as much for someone – for a complete stranger – but now I knew I could. And I just… I just _couldn't_ handle it if I lost it. This feeling. This wonderful, _complete_ feeling. I couldn't lose it.

And in all those torturous minutes when I ran home, the scent – _his_ delicious scent poured into me. It penetrated every part of me, caressed my nostrils, mocked me, tempted me. _Come and taste it, just a little sip, come on_. But I couldn't, I _couldn't_. So I clenched my sharp, treacherous teeth and ran even faster, my clothes, my hair, everything absolutely soaked with his blood. His delicious… _blood_.

But I couldn't, I _couldn't_ give in.

And finally, _finally_ I was home. I screamed for help at the top of my lungs, begging for Carlisle to come and help me.

I stormed into the house, dripping blood everywhere, and I _knew_ it was too late. I _heard_ his heartbeats slowing, his breathing hitching… I _knew_ it was too late, and yet I wanted Carlisle to _try_, because I couldn't… He couldn't… He _can't_… die.

Carlisle came rushing towards me, took the man out of my hands, calmly and gravely calling for Edward, and laid the stranger on the dining table. I took a seat next to him, holding his hand, talking nonsense in his ear, trying to soothe him.

Edward and Esme appeared from the living room, and they gasped in shock at what they saw. Edward hurried to carry out the instructions Carlisle was enumerating now, while Esme dashed to me and threw an arm around my shaking shoulders.

I couldn't… had to get clean… _blood_.

Edward gave me a wary look and sprinted out of the room, returning with a tub of hot water and two towels. Esme grabbed it from him and began to clean me up, washing my hair, rinsing my face, my hands, my throat… my aching, burning throat.

I desperately tried to follow the interventions Carlisle and Edward were busy doing, but I didn't understand anything of it, and the horrible feeling of incapacity hit me square in the face.

"What happened?" Esme asked, and she looked in my eyes, sighing in relieve when she didn't see the expected red orbs.

"I didn't…" I bit my lip, not being able to tear my eyes away from the beautiful, dying man on the dining table. "I didn't _attack_ him. The _bear_ did, and I couldn't… I couldn't let him _die_…" I brought my free hand to my mouth and let out a tiny sob.

Carlisle looked up from his examination and shook his head. "There isn't much I can do to save him, Rosalie…"

"No!" A vicious jolt ran through me, widening my eyes, making my hair stand on end. "You have to!"

"He's too far gone, Rose." He looked the unconscious human over. "How old do you think he is?" he murmured softly.

"No, Carlisle!" I bit. "No, he _has_ to be saved, don't you see? Don't you _understand_?" I looked up at him with big, pleading eyes. My face must have been a sight to see, because his eyes widened and he nodded, resigned.

"I'll have to turn him," he whispered.

I nodded, my lips turning into a thin line. I was so selfish to condemn this man for an eternity of _this_, but at that moment I didn't care.

"Carlisle, don't you think we should think this through?" Edward stated rationally. I snapped my head up to look at him, absolutely furious.

"Edward, you shut up!" I snarled.

He turned to me with an astonished look on his treacherous face. "Didn't you once say something about not wanting to be a hero, Rosalie? What does this make you?" He gestured toward the bloody mess on the dining-table.

I clenched my jaw and turned back to him. "This is not the same, Edward," I hissed icily.

"_It is_. And now you're just _guessing_. Maybe he won't even want to _stay_ with you!"

"And maybe he _does_!" I yelled back, absolutely hysterical. "Don't make assumptions, you paranoid egoist!"

He growled. "No, we _can't_. Carlisle -" Edward turned to our father. "Carlisle, we can't condemn this man for eternity." He looked at me. "Don't be selfish, Rosalie. You've said yourself you hate this life! Why would you do this to him when you know how it's going to be?" His eyes were blazing.

I shook my head. "No, Edward, you're wrong. Save him, Carlisle. Please…"

Carlisle looked torn, looking hesitatingly from me, to Edward, to the stranger and to Esme.

"Carlisle, you can't…" Edward began, begging for the soul of the stranger.

"Edward, so help me, if you don't shut your mouth _real fast_…" I hissed threateningly.

"But…"

"Save him, Carlisle. _Please_."

Carlisle looked at Esme, desperate for support and with a shock I remembered our conversation from so many months ago.

I whirled to her and grabbed her hand. She looked down on me with saddened eyes.

"Please, Esme," I whispered. "Let Carlisle save him."

I could've kissed her when she nodded firmly and laid her other hand on top of mine, telling Edward that the decision was final in the same second.

"Yes, Carlisle. Change him. If it's what Rosalie wants, we've got to do it."

Carlisle nodded slowly. "Maybe if we inject some morphine into his system it won't hurt that much." He disappeared and after a few seconds he returned with his doctor bag in his one hand. He took a syringe and injected the fluid carefully inside of the man's body.

"Maybe it'll help," he murmured. I nodded hopefully, letting go of Esme and clenching the stranger's hand like I'd known him all my life.

I breathed shallowly when Carlisle brought his sharp teeth to the man's throat, his ankles, his wrists.

It took a long, expectant moment, but then the young man opened his eyes and screamed out in terror. Carlisle looked tortured and apologized immediately.

The morphine didn't work.

_Edward, bring me the tub with warm water_, I thought, not looking at him. I heard him snort and disappear. He returned with the warm water and handed it to me without a word – his dark expression saying everything. I took it with a silent plea to him to understand my decision, and began to clean the man's face, his wounds, his hair…

Edward grunted - still furious – and watched how I cleaned him.

"He'll have to have new clothes," Esme said suddenly to fill the awkward silence.

I nodded absently.

I heard Edward snort. "Well, he won't fit into mine. He's absolutely _huge_."

It wasn't until he mentioned it that I noticed it, too. The stranger _was_ gigantic, with big, strong muscles and a tall, burly frame. And the absolute opposite was his face - it looked so childishly innocent to belong to such a strong torso. I stroked the towel carefully over his cheekbones, wiping off the blood and dirt.

The stranger screamed again, sweaty and incoherent in agony. His warm, coffee-brown eyes flew open and rested for a moment on my face. I thought for a moment that he looked surprised, before he squeezed them shut again.

Edward chuckled darkly.

_Unbelievable._

I snarled in exasperation. "What the hell is _possibly_ funny about this, Edward?"

"He thinks Carlisle is God, and you're an angel." He snorted quietly, shaking his head pityingly.

I smirked. _Well, just because you aren't able to appreciate gorgeous women, it doesn't mean the rest of the world has the same problems._

Edward rolled his eyes. "Haha. Funny."

I grinned but grimaced when the man screamed again.

"Edward, will you come with me? We'll buy some clothes for him," Esme said. I shot her a look of gratitude, and she stroked my hair.

"It's going to be okay, dear. We'll be right back," she soothed, and she pulled an unwilling Edward with her.

**…**

I sat for days at the dining table, never leaving him, never letting go of his hand. It was pure torture to see him struggle with his pain, to hear him shouting in distress. It reminded me of my own pain, my own battle, my own heartbreak, my own change.

I wondered how it would feel for him to find out he wasn't human anymore. How would he react? Would he be mad? Maybe he wouldn't want to see me ever again. Maybe he'd cry, maybe he'd become depressed, maybe…

So many maybes, so many what ifs.

Why couldn't life be easy for just one small moment?

When it was only a matter of hours before he would awake, I left the room to shower and change quickly, while the stranger was getting cleaned and dressed by Carlisle and Edward. When they were done with him, I was quickly at his side again, holding his hand tightly and stroking his soft, clean curls with my other hand.

When Edward said he was conscious enough to understand, I began to explain what he was turning into. I got no response, but Edward said he had heard it. I told him about everything but left my own opinions out of it. I didn't have the heart to tell him he would be living in hell for the rest of his existence.

His heart began to race, to pound against his chest – announcing the end of the transformation. I winced when his heart went so fast the beats were one after the other, beating so wildly, it almost hurt to listen to.

Carlisle touched my elbow lightly.

"Rosalie, maybe it's best if you stand with us. We don't know how he will react," he said gently. I considered it for a while, but stood up, unwillingly letting the stranger's hand go.

_Come on_. _I don't want you to be a stranger anymore, I want you to have a name. Come on, wake up._

And then… his heart stopped altogether and he opened his eyes. His eyes that were once a beautiful, twinkling, coffee-brown – now a piercing burgundy. My eyes grew wide when he leaped off the table with so much force that the table actually broke. Esme gasped at this, and I squeezed her hand. The table was already ruined by his blood. It couldn't have been fixed anyway.

The stranger looked around, surprise flickering in his eyes.

Edward chuckled softly.

"How the hell did I do that?" the stranger said with a grin, loosely gesturing to the broken table. Then he finally looked up at us. Or rather, at me.

"Well, hello there," he said, and he winked daringly. I cocked an eyebrow and smirked. Edward snickered again.

_Remember that hair doesn't grow back once it's shaven, Edward,_ I threatened, silencing Edward instantly.

Carlisle stepped forward, and I wanted to follow him, but Esme held out her arm to stop me.

"Hello, young man," he greeted friendly. "Do you remember what we told you? About being a…"

"A vampire? Yeah, sure." He looked around the room, seeming a little dazed.

Carlisle smiled. "It's a bit disorientating, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah. But I'll get used to it, I guess." He sneaked a look in my direction but was quickly distracted by a zooming fly on the wall. "Wow."

"What wow?" Edward asked dryly. "The fly?"

"No, of course," the stranger said, cracking an easy smile. "_This_."

"What, this?" Edward persisted.

"What's your name?" I asked, not being able to hold it in anymore.

The stranger's head whipped around at hearing my voice and our eyes – so different, so similar - locked onto each other's. My breathing hitched.

"I'm Emmett McCarty, lady."

_Emmett_… A beautiful name… for a gorgeous, beautiful…

Edward fake-coughed, and I licked my lips to hide my growing smile.

"I'm Carlisle Cullen," Carlisle said hastily. "This is my wife Esme, and our son and daughter, Edward and Rosalie."

"It's great to meet you," Emmett said, although he had only eyes for me. I couldn't hide it anymore, and I smiled a full smile. His expression lit, and he responded with an even bigger grin.

His happy expression made all sorts of emotions and feelings flow through me, and I got all warm and giddy from it. It surprised me. I hadn't felt like that since… I'd actually never felt like that. Never, in all my life. It simply wasn't my personality. I never felt giddy or excited. But this stranger had managed to crack the code with just a simple smile.

"You can't be serious, right?" Edward asked abruptly, completely ruining the mood.

Emmett's brow furrowed, and he looked at Edward questioningly. They locked eyes, and there seemed to be a small exchange.

Edward nodded and smiled crookedly. "Kind of."

"That's cool, man. Why can't I do that?"

Edward grinned, rolling his eyes.

I frowned. "Emmett?"

"Yes, babe?"

I cocked an eyebrow. _Right_.

"You're a vampire. You know that right?"

"Yes, of course. You already told me a million times." He grinned, and I saw that the dimples were still there. My dead heart leapt in joy at the knowledge that he hadn't lost them in the changing process.

"Well… You seem to have no problems with that?" I asked carefully.

He laughed – a deep, booming sound that rebounded from the walls and vibrated deep within me, making me warm and shaky.

"Why should I have problems with that?"

I was stunned. Absolutely stunned. And judging by the faces of Carlisle, Esme and Edward they were greatly shocked too. Although Carlisle and Esme looked pleasantly surprised instead of shocked. He _didn't_ have problems with it? He accepted it? Just like that? Could life give me this so easily? No catch?

"Will you stay with us, Emmett?" Carlisle asked cautiously, and my stomach dropped in fear of his answer.

Emmett's brow furrowed, and I expected the worst.

"Uhm…" He looked at me. "I already have a home, but thank you. I can't wait to tell my brothers about this. So awesome." He grinned.

_Fuck_, I completely forgot to tell him about that. My eyes grew wide. How in the world could I forget _that_?

Carlisle gave me a significant look and explained to Emmett the cons of being a vampire with a gentle, understanding voice. His voice for telling patients their illness can't be cured - that they're terminal, that they're dying, that it's all over.

The smile that seemed to be glued on Emmett's face disappeared slowly with this knowledge, and he looked at me with a hurt look in his eyes.

Pushing Esme's arm out of my way, I stepped forward without a thought and threw my arms around Emmett's body. He wrapped his strong arms around me and laid his face in my hair. I could hear him heave unnecessary deep breaths.

The cons of being a vampire.

The people you've grown up with, your friends, your family… everything you could fall back on when you were afraid or lonely – the haven of your life… you've got to leave it all behind. I knew how it felt. It was like having your heart cut out. The pain of the transformation didn't compensate in the slightest.

And it'll never be okay. Of course, memories fade after a while, but there's always that feeling of loss you'll carry around the rest of your life. It's something every vampire suffers from - even Carlisle. The only way to deal with it is to move on, to hold on to something else so you don't have to think about it.

So I let Emmett hold me, serving as a buoy that he could grab to hoist himself up and climb on the ship again. Sure, it would take a while for him to dry up, to shake the cold off of him, but he would succeed in doing that. And when he was completely dry, and the traumatic experience would just be a nasty cold, we could _live_. Together.

And I would be there to help him every step of the way.

* * *

**Thank you so much for reading and please let me hear your thoughts :)**

**- Rose**


	9. Frustrations

****

Thanks to Crimson Love20, who's still patient enough to beta this between her school work - I appreciate it so much :-)

**Happy reading**

* * *

**FRUSTRATIONS**

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I whirled the bat around in my hands and leaned against a tree, an amused smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. A few meters away from me – in the middle of the field –Emmett and Edward were fooling around as only boys could. They were play-wrestling, and it wasn't really clear who was winning. I think they were pretty evenly matched. Edward definitely had the advantage with his mind-reading, but whenever Emmett managed to grab him, Edward didn't stand a chance.

After Emmett's change, the weather had been miserable for weeks. Gray, gloomy clouds threw dark shadows over the land, and the strong, wild wind whistled menacingly around the house. Now – outside – the rain was pelting down on us, and we had to shout to make ourselves audible.

Emmett had gotten bored with sitting inside, and he had persuaded us into playing a game of baseball. To be honest, I had only agreed to do it to humor him. I'd never played, and by the confused looks Carlisle and Esme shared, they hadn't either. Edward seemed to understand, though, as he and Emmett were giving us a lively example of how to play baseball.

Esme watched the boys roll through the mud with an astonished look on her face until she finally threw her bat on the dirty ground and stepped forward.

"Boys! That's quite enough," she yelled, her voice muted by the vicious wind. Emmett and Edward – having seemingly forgotten about the whole baseball game, as they were wrestling again – looked up, mud covering their faces.

"I'm going to be the referee, whether you like it or not!" She crossed her arms when Emmett's face clouded over.

"Oh, Esme, come on! It'll be fun," he objected. "I'll be on your and Rose's team, alright? We're going to win."

Esme quickly decided to intervene at that moment. "That's not what I'm worried about, Emmett," she said with half a smile on her wet face. "I'm worried about cheating."

"I _never_ cheat!" Emmett claimed with a huge grin.

Edward rolled his eyes and threw one of the balls against Emmett's head. It hit his cheek with a soft thud. "Sure, you don't."

Emmett winked at me and in the blink of an eye he was standing next to me, taking the bat out of my hands and throwing the ball to Carlisle. "I'm with the lady!" he bellowed happily and in another blink he was positioned at home base, swinging his bat back and forth. "And since ladies always go first, our team is up for bat!"

A chuckle from Carlisle and another eye-roll from Edward later, he swung the bat around and with a gigantic 'boom' his bat connected with the ball pitched by Carlisle. The ball flew through the forest, and Edward was instantly following it, running at his utmost hardest.

"I'm glad we're doing this in this bad weather," I heard Esme mutter. "Hopefully people will think it's the thunder." She looked up, squinting in the rain. I followed her gaze to the gray, dreary sky and sighed.

"I guess so."

"Hey, referee!" Edward shouted. "You've got to watch the game, you know!"

Esme looked down with a surprised look. "What happened? Did someone already cheat?" Her gaze shifted to Emmett for a split second, then it went back to Edward.

"Yeah! Genius here," he pointed to a grinning Emmett, "says I didn't catch the ball in time, but I did!"

Esme's eyes searched Carlisle's. "Do you know, dear?"

Carlisle smiled and watched as Emmett's grin turned into a scowl. "Edward caught it. Emmett's out."

"Okay." Esme nodded and smiled innocently at Emmett.

"But that's not _fair_!" Emmett said. "They're on the same team, _of course_ he'd say that!"

Esme shrugged casually. "You're out. Next!"

Emmett stamped past me and picked up the bat from the ground. He held it out to me, and I grabbed it.

"How do I do this?"

Emmett beckoned me with his hand, and it wasn't until he'd fully turned to me, that I realized his entire front was covered in mud. He was absolutely soaked by the weather and the wet grass, and it made his white shirt nearly translucent. I could clearly see his muscles flex when he showed me how to hold the bat, and it was amazingly distracting. I nodded absently, not able to take my eyes off of his abs and muscular chest.

"Okay, Rose, here it goes," he said cheerily, cutting off my musings about his gorgeous body. I saw Emmett give a nod to Carlisle, and he threw the ball up, before catching it with his other hand.

"Here he goes, Rosalie!" he yelled, and the ball flew toward me with blinding speed.

A smirk played with my lips and when the ball got close enough, I swung the bat around and bat and ball collided with a sickening crash.

I threw the bat behind me and in the same second I was on second base, stopping in time when Carlisle got hold of the ball and began running in my direction.

"Safe!" I heard Esme call.

I heard a whoop and turned on my heels to see Emmett giving me two thumbs up. I gave him a small smile and saw his grin growing bigger in return. I tore my eyes from him and glanced to the gray sky before focusing on the game again.

The weather wasn't the only one confused. I shared its confusion with immense passion.

Emmett hit the ball again – this time a smart ground ball – and I started running again, Emmett flitting from base to base right behind me, his laugh echoing through the forest. He gained on me, and his arm glided from my arm to the small of my back when he ran past me. It seemed innocent enough, but his touch sent shivers down my whole body and my stomach whirled with excitement.

Everything about him attracted me to him, everything invited me in. Like a bee was attracted by the most exquisite flower ever known by men, forever circling around each other in a slow, sensual dance.

His smile made my stomach drop five miles, his laugh made my own appear, his strong, muscular body made my mouth pool with venom – only not of thirst.

I reached home base and Emmett gave me a high five, grabbing hold of my hand up in the air and bringing them down slowly.

"You know, for someone who has never played a single game in her life… you're pretty fabulous at it," he said huskily, and his eyes betrayed his wish to express this little celebration in a way much more intimate than simple words. He'd already bended his head a fraction of an inch closer to my face, and suddenly I felt my stomach reel with emotion.

I swallowed away the pooling venom and gingerly untangled my fingers from his, my eyes downcast. I sighed deeply and peered at him through the still-falling rain, fidgeting with the hem of my own soaking wet shirt and gave him a sad smile.

I saw a glimmer of hurt in his eyes before I turned away and heard Esme yell that the boys were up for bat.

I felt the love for him growing with every passing day, but every time I got too close with him – in the back of my mind, a treacherous voice began to whisper. It reminded me about how I had felt with Royce, how much I'd given him, how incredibly much I'd trusted him – and it reminded me how that had ended, how rudely he broke the things I'd entrusted him. How horribly he'd broken my soul, heart, and body.

I always listened to that croaking voice, hoarse with the dark memories, broken with the brutal images that appeared whenever it let itself be heard. I always listened, because the experience was too fresh; it was too raw.

I felt a hand clench around my arm and startled. I whirled around, only to meet Emmett's wide, blood-red eyes. They didn't show any hurt or any fear of rejection. They brimmed with worry and the unspoken promise of making everything better if it was in his power.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked in a low voice, glancing to where Esme, Carlisle and Edward were bickering about something.

I studied his genuinely worried expression with wide, sad eyes.

He couldn't ever know. I decided it at that very moment, right then and there. He couldn't ever, _ever_ know.

I forced myself to smile and straightened my back, throwing my hair back with a loose gesture of my hand. "No, there's nothing wrong."

He continued to stare at me with an unfathomable expression, and I knew he wasn't falling for my act. He did seem to understand my wish to be left alone, though. He released my arm and drew back reluctantly. "If there is something wrong -" He bit on his lip, distracting me momentarily "- you know you can always tell me, right?"

I smiled – sincerely now – and nodded slowly. "Thank you." My voice sounded more intense than I'd wished, and it wasn't something that went unnoticed.

"Are you sure?" His intense gaze held mine without any sign of ever letting go.

I nodded. He stared at me, touched my cheek lovingly and finally let me walk away to my spot on the field.

**…**

_A new car. _I fumbled with the long sleeves of my sweater as I considered buying another toy. _But what kind?_ My hand gripped the banister, and my feet began slowly walking down the stairs. _Another Mercedes?_ I wrinkled my nose. I'd had my fair share of that brand. _Maybe…_

A startling image distracted me from my musings. My eyes snapped to the couch and most importantly, to Emmett who was sitting on it. Something seemed wrong, though. He was staring with wide eyes to the newspaper he had in his hands. He wasn't breathing, wasn't moving. Usually he was so energetic. It was unnerving to see him so stiff and frozen.

I walked to the couch, placing my hands on the back of it and bending my head down to see what had Emmett that shocked. My eyes flew quickly over all the headlines, but I couldn't find anything.

"What are you staring at?" I asked.

Emmett tore his eyes from the paper, looked at me and pointed to a very tiny article that was placed in the furthest corner of the paper.

'_Young man missing_'

My lips formed a silent 'oh'.

"They're looking for me," Emmett said with a slightly choked voice.

"Of course they are," I said dully. "We all had those articles, those calls to search for us. We all went missing, and there was always someone looking." I felt uncomfortable when I thought back to those millions and millions of _huge_ articles and gigantic photos that covered the front of newspapers when _I _disappeared.

"I miss them." Emmett's eyes had drifted back to the article, and one of his fingers stroked the few words absentmindedly.

"We all miss our family." My tone sounded harsher than I meant it.

We stayed silent for a long time. He never took his eyes off the paper.

"You should forget about them," I said sternly.

He frowned and turned his face to look at me, his face contorted in pain and confusion. "Why? I don't ever want to forget them."

"It's healthier for everyone."

"Don't tell me you don't miss your family."

My eyes narrowed, and I pressed my lips into a thin line.

"Don't you?" he asked, his eyes widening in surprise. "You seem so much like a family-type." Unconsciously he'd laid one hand on one of mine, and the touch was too much to bear. In a heated moment of panic and confusion, I yanked my hands from the couch.

"Don't assume things, Emmett," I snarled lowly. I tried to ignore the hurt look in his eyes as I wheeled around and stalked out of the room.

The forest was a perfect place to hide from the family. It was big, yet cozy. It was permeated with scents of animals and whispers of life, yet was the quietest place in the world.

It wasn't until I heard the loud sound of water that I stopped running. I glanced over the edge of the cliff I stood on and saw the wild, roaring waves slamming against the rocks and crashing into each other.

I crossed my legs and gracefully sat down to stare at the horizon. The sun was a huge, yellow orb, glowing fiercely behind the water. Big, black clouds drifted in front of it, as if to scare it away. The last beams of the sun just peeked over the sea, throwing a warm, golden light across the waves. I couldn't help the thought that I would like to have Emmett next to me now, so he could see this beauty, too. A mocking smile spread across my face. Since when had I turned into such a romantic?

The brushwood behind me cracked, announcing someone's arrival.

"I smelled your scent," a warm, soft voice said.

I didn't respond, and Esme went to sit beside me, following my gaze. The sunset reflected in her eyes, and it made her golden irises look like liquid pools of pure warmth.

"What's wrong, Rosalie?" She kept looking forward when she said it.

"I wish everyone would stop asking me that," I growled. My hands clenched into fists, and I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and resting my chin on top of them.

"Maybe everyone will stop asking if you tell us," she said, and she finally looked at me. She seemed to radiate an aura of serenity, and I found myself basking in the motherly love that was Esme.

"Maybe I don't want to tell you," I whispered, my annoyance gone already. "Maybe you should just stop asking."

"Only people who don't care don't ask. We care, Rose. We care so much about you. I understand you don't want to tell Edward, I might even understand you don't want to tell Carlisle… but you can tell me."

"Everyone says that, Esme," I snapped. "I – don't – want - to."

She shook her head and averted her gaze to the horizon again. It was only a matter of minutes before the sun would be gone.

When the sun was completely swallowed by the sea, the darkness engulfed me like a blanket. My eyes adjusted rather quickly, though, and I could see the ants crawling in the brushwood, searching for a hiding place from the gentle rain drops.

"The sun rises now on the other side of the world," Esme said quietly with a quick glance at me.

I frowned. "So?"

"And in a few hours, it will rise here again. In a few days the clouds will be gone, and the sun will be out again," she looked up to the dark sky, where a few stars managed to shine through the thick, black clouds. "And when the sun isn't here, the stars are."

I picked up a rock and let it drop from the high cliff. A couple of seconds later I heard it hit the water, the muted splash echoing through the empty forest.

"There's always light, sweetheart," Esme continued. "You may not see it at this moment, but it's always there – you just have to know it. There's always hope."

"It's different," I whispered.

"I know it is. It's different for everyone. No life is the same, no experience is the same. But the light isn't different. That's the great thing about it – it shines the same for everybody."

A long period of silence stretched between us as I pondered her words. The gentle breeze played with my long, heavy curls and tugged softly on my clothes. The drizzling rain layered itself on my hair and on my clothes. I could taste the fresh fluid on my lips.

"I can't trust him," I breathed after a long silence, my lips a tight line, and my nose scrunched up in disgust with myself.

Esme was quiet for so long, I wondered if she'd heard me.

"I can understand that," she eventually responded, and she turned to look at me. "You can try, though."

How could she assume I wasn't trying? "I _am_ trying, it's just so… difficult."

She nodded slowly. "It is." She took a deep breath. "Life can be so unfair sometimes, can't it? One moment you're given everything you ever wanted, and the next second you're spiraling down into the deepest pit of despair."

"That certainly is comforting," I remarked sarcastically.

She chuckled darkly. "I know. But the thing is, Rose, that when you're in that deep pit of despair – the only way is up. Things can only get better."

I frowned. "That's true."

"Maybe you should give it a try, don't you think? You're not alone this time. You have a family that will watch out for you. If Emmett forms a threat – although I'll _never_ believe he could be – we will be there for you to protect you." She reached out and squeezed my hand. "Give it a try."

I stared out at the darkness surrounding us, thinking about what she'd said. Then another problem imposed my thoughts.

"How?"

Esme giggled. "That's not something I can help you with. You've got to find that out yourself."

"But how do I do it? We can't really go out on a date, right?" I shifted my position, crossing my legs and leaning backwards on my hands. "We can't exactly go out for dinner, can we?" I turned my head to look at Esme, whose eyes were twinkling.

She shrugged, tilted her head to the side and gave me a small smile. "Why not?"

**…**

God knows I was enjoying this more than I should. My hands fluttered through the countless racks of clothes, occasionally picking out something worthwhile to look at, only to put it back again. I was looking for something special, something…

Something like _that_.

I smirked when I yanked it out of the strictly sorted row of clothes. _Perfect._

I hurried out of the store and flew to my car. I quickly glanced at the dashboard-clock and cursed when I saw that I had wasted almost half a day with the necessary shopping.

It's funny how things can change when you're in different scenery, when you're looking at it in a different light.

Maybe it was the foreign – yet strong – feeling of jealousy I felt when he came walking in the chic restaurant and every woman turned around to look at him. Maybe it was because he was looking incredibly handsome in his dark suit. Or maybe it was the look on his face when he saw me. Huh. I hadn't picked out my clothes so carefully for nothing.

I'd called him from the restaurant and told him in a no-nonsense voice he was to come to the Reynier Restaurant in half an hour. I'd instructed him to wear the suit Esme had bought for him. A little over fifteen minutes, the doors of the restaurant had swung open, and there he stood. His wide eyes were rapidly raking over the gracious restaurant, taking in the dark wooden furniture, the dim lights, the romantically lit candles, the heavy smelling flowers on each table.

I saw his nose sniff once, and his head wheeled around to where I was sitting on one of the tables I had picked out. My heart turned in anticipation as he slowly began walking towards me, his eyes nervously shifting from human to human, his nose undoubtedly catching the sweet scent of blood that hung in the air.

I'd picked out our table with necessary care. Our table was the only one that stood in a separate room that could be closed by sliding doors. Its interior was commodious, romantic. The whole room was only lit by candles and for humans it would be too dark to see properly. For vampires it had a luscious effect – you could almost call it sexy. Our eyes could see everything perfectly, and the living proof of that was Emmett.

As he came walking through the doors, he visibly relaxed. The scent of humans wasn't as strong in here, and I could see him heave deep breaths, the smile on his face growing wider and wider.

I licked my lips and shoved my chair backwards. I stood up in one fluid motion, and my whole body seemed to gloat in happiness as Emmett's jaw dropped to the ground. His eyes were baseballs as they shot over my form. My lips curled into a small smile. I had missed this. I had nearly forgotten the pride I felt when men were stunned into silence. Edward had never shown interest in me, Carlisle was married, and we really never went anywhere. It had been a long time since I had affected a man this way.

I was wearing a dark, emerald green dress. It was a long model, and the soft texture wrapped around my feminine curve seductively. The dress had a slit that began on the middle of my hip, showing a glimpse of my long, slender legs that seemed to go on for miles because of the high heels I wore. I'd let my hair hang loose, and it gulfed around my shoulders and my waist in big, wavy curls.

I smirked and strode towards him, his eyes never leaving my body or face.

As I opened my mouth to speak, I was hit with an emotion I'd never stumbled upon before when speaking to a man.

I was nervous.

I took his hand, swallowing thickly, and toyed with his fingers. I waited until he gained some sort of control over the muscles of his jaw and watched him slowly close his mouth. His eyes were still huge, though and they glowed softly in the candlelight.

"I thought," I kept my voice low and warm, "I thought we should go on a date."

His mouth dropped slightly open again, and his eyes flew from my small waist to my intensely burning eyes.

"A…" He cleared his throat, his expression turning into one of disbelief. "A date?"

I huffed. "Only if you want to, of course," I responded with a slight sneer.

He recovered quickly and began shaking his head. "No, no, _of course_ I want to go… on a date…" His eyes were a pool of liquid rubies, and I'd never seen anything as beautiful. "… with you."

I smiled up at him and motioned for him to take a seat. He didn't take it, though. As a real gentleman – something I somehow hadn't expected from him – he offered me a seat first. I thanked him with a nod and a smirk and sat down elegantly.

He went to sit opposite of me and I suddenly detested the way they designed these tables. If there was an uncomfortable silence you were stuck staring at the other person. I breathed heavily in and out and tried to relax my reeling emotions. As my eyes glided up, I saw him gazing intently at me.

"What?" I asked quietly.

He shrugged. "Did you do this because you want to tell me about your family?"

I stiffened. "That's ridiculous. It's a date," I snapped.

"Hm."

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "Don't bring it up, Emmett."

"Okay." He shifted in his seat. "Why this, then?"

This time it was my time to shrug. "It seemed… appropriate."

"For what?"

I sighed, getting impatient with his blunt questions. "Think, Emmett. To learn about each other, of course."

"We can do that in the house."

"Sure – with the rest of the family eavesdropping on us."

"Romantically in the forest?"

"Emmett," I snapped, gesturing at my dress. "Do you really think I could have worn this dress in a wet and muddy forest?"

He frowned, and his eyes touched my clothes again. "I guess not." He grinned. "Then I'm very happy you chose to do this here, because I wouldn't want to miss this for all the money in the world."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help cracking a small smile.

"I want to know," he blurted out, his eyes burning into mine again.

The tiny smile vanished, my eyes narrowed and I stared back, unfazed. "No."

He kept staring at me with those twinkling eyes of his. "I'm just wondering… why not?"

_Because it isn't a topic you discuss in a chic restaurant_, I wanted to snarl. _You don't know how much pain pierces through my mind just by thinking about it – imagine what it would feel like if I talked about it._

Obviously I couldn't voice those reasons, so I settled with a threatening growl.

"Don't force me, Emmett."

Our eyes were still locked when I heard a soft cough, and my head snapped up to see the waiter standing next to our table, his bored face barely looking up from his notebook.

"Good evening," a dull voice said. "What can I do for you?"

I frowned and looked at Emmett questioningly. He chuckled.

"Something to eat, Rose. Have you already made your choice?" he asked sweetly. Despite myself I had to grin.

"A salad," I said. Hearing my musical voice, his eyes detached from his piece of paper, only to widen when he really took me in. I heard Emmett cough loudly.

"The lady said something, I believe," he noted somewhat too loud.

The waiter stumbled on his words, and his hand clenched firmly on his pen as he wrote the words down. "What kind of salad?"

"Surprise me," I answered sarcastically, waving vaguely in the air.

Emmett bent over the table, forcing the waiter to look at him. "The same, please." I couldn't see his expression, but the obnoxious man paled and turned around swiftly.

"Close the door behind you," Emmett said with his booming voice.

"Of course." The waiter nodded hastily. "As you wish, Sir."

Emmett turned his head to me and grinned, apparently pleased with himself. I raised my eyebrow dryly.

"What? You're _my_ date." He shrugged casually.

I wanted to object to that, but since I'd invited him to this restaurant, I couldn't really contradict that, could I?

"So," Emmett said, and his lips turned into a pleasant smile. "What do you want to know about me?"

I chuckled and bent slightly forwards. "What was your human life like?" I asked, sincerely interested.

He positively beamed when I asked him about that, and he proceeded to bombard me with a hilarious story about a very happy human life. He had a gigantic family, three older brothers and four younger. He had parents who meant everything to him and who weren't rich, but took care of their children with loving precision.

"We always hunted bears when they were in season," he said with a sideways glance to me. "But I guess you know that." His face turned regretful. "That's one thing I'm sorry about, you know. Not having the chance to say goodbye to them. Not being able to hug my mom one last time, to tell my dad 'Thank you for all you've done'. It's really hard."

"I know," I whispered. "I'm sure they don't blame you."

"Maybe," he said, his eyes far away, seeing a life I would never get to see.

"Certainly."

His eyes flickered to mine. "So that's _my_ family, but I've heard their story a million times. I'm curious to hear _other_ stories of families."

I growled. "Subtlety is not you're strongest point, is it?"

He straightened his back and smiled proudly. "Absolutely not."

"Jerk."

"Sticks and stones, Rose. So do you know stories about other families?" He put his finger against his lips, mocking me. "I'm sure you've heard of some."

"Fine," I snapped. "My parents were middle-class. My father worked as a banker. I had two younger brothers who could be unbelievably annoying, but also really sweet. They frequently made bets and most of the time it somehow wasn't doing me any good. I had a best friend named Vera. She married at seventeen to a carpenter named Sam. Together they had a baby." My voice stumbled on the word, my mind filling with images of the adorable Henry. "He was the most adorable thing I've ever seen in my life."

I cocked my head. "I think that was it."

"Wow, that was short," Emmett mumbled, disappointed, but then his face lit up. "I'm sure you had a boyfriend, right? You're too beautiful to be single."

"I was single, Emmett," I snapped, my dead heart leaping in fear. _Don't go there, don't go there._

"So no boyfriend?" His face clouded over. "You weren't married, were you?"

I stayed silent, and he tilted his head, his eyebrows rising in anticipation.

"Engaged?" he finally whispered. I swallowed thickly with the reminder, and he didn't miss the small movement. "So you had a fiancé." His voice was low and disappointed. "Then I can guess why you aren't as enthusiastic about me as I am about you."

I snorted. "That's ridiculous, Emmett. I took you out on a _date_, for crying out loud."

"That's true. But what happened to…"

"Royce?" I snapped, and my eyes burned with hatred. "Don't worry about it."

"What happened?" he asked.

"None of your business."

His eyes searched my expression for a while and a long time it was absolutely quiet. The crackling silence was disturbed by the waiter who came to bring our food. He seemed uncomfortable to have interrupted us in yet another glaring contest. He put the food on the nicely decorated table and fled out of the private room without another word.

"I'm sorry," Emmett finally said. "It _is_ none of my business."

I narrowed my eyes. "It's nice that you finally started to catch on."

"But if you ever want to talk about it -" He gestured vaguely to himself. "I'll always be in the neighborhood. Please let me help you with… whatever you're dealing with."

My breath whispered through my lips as he exclaimed his caring. I looked down and nodded stiffly.

A foreign feeling settled itself in my heart, and it felt suspiciously similar to what I felt the day I rescued him. My lips lifted in a tiny smile, and I could see Emmett's face lighten in response. Maybe it wasn't hopeless just yet. Maybe all we needed was some time.

"Thank you, Emmett."

.

.

_When the rain is blowing in your face_

_And the whole world is on your case_

_I could offer you a warm embrace_

_To make you feel my love_

_When the evening shadows and the stars appear_

_And there is no one there to dry your tears_

_I could hold you for a million years_

_To make you feel my love_

_I know you haven't made your mind up yet_

_But I would never do you wrong_

_I've known it from the moment that we met_

_No doubt in my mind where you belong_

_I'd go hungry; I'd go black and blue_

_I'd go crawling down the avenue_

_No there's nothing that I wouldn't do_

_To make you feel my love_

_The storms are raging on the rolling sea_

_And on the highway of regret_

_Though winds of change are blowing wild and free_

_You ain't seen nothing like me yet_

_I could make you happy, make your dreams come true_

_Nothing that I wouldn't do_

_Go to the ends of the earth for you_

_To make you feel my love_

**_To make you feel my love - Adele_**

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**Lame ending - I know it :p, but I've been in a writer block since a week now and it just won't go away!**

**Well, just hit that little review button and let me know your thoughts :-)**

**- Rose**


	10. On Fire

**Hi everyone :-) **

**Huge thanks to Crimson Love20 for betaing this.**

**Happy reading.**

**

* * *

****ON FIRE**

.

.

A warm hand sneaked underneath my short skirt and traveled its way upwards. Another hand was tenderly stroking the back of my neck, but that touch was so much less distracting than the other. Two fingers had already reached the end of my leg, and I tried to hold myself together, crossing my legs and trying to concentrate more on the book I was trying to read. Emphasis on trying.

The thing was… it had become so much easier. I knew it had everything to do with the fact that I had come to be totally obsessed over him. He was in every thought in my head, and it came to the point that Edward had trouble with being in the same room as me, telling me he couldn't bear listening to my 'ridiculous fantasies'.

I squirmed under his touch, my eyes narrowing, but not looking up.

Emmett didn't seem to notice my subtle rejection, and I was yet again reminded of his lack of subtlety. The hand on my neck suddenly dropped to my lower back, massaging its way down to my skirt. It felt wonderful, and it had been so long ago that I had been touched like this – and it was even longer ago that I had been touched so lovingly like this.

In the last couple of weeks – since the 'diner', really – I had tried my hardest to allow him access in my heavily guarded mindset. And it worked. Day by day, the brick wall broke a little further. His patience was amazing. I had discovered that Emmett – _my_ Emmett – was the sweetest person that existed.

I could be reading something on the couch, and he would sit next to me and wrap his arms around me without a word. He'd kiss me once, twice on the cheek and lay his head on my shoulder – content and happy enough to sit with me without the urge to spill his jokes. I basked in those moments.

I learned so much about him in these first months. I discovered that he'd always wrinkle his nose slightly when he was deep in thought, and that there was always a particular, longing shining in his eyes when he spoke about his family. I noticed how wildly excited his features became when he was play-wrestling with Edward.

I learned to recognize all of his different smiles. There was of course the full-blown, deep, booming Emmett-laugh he used the most which left the whole house, plus its inhabitants, positively shaking. When something unexpectedly funny happened, he would snort, which was often a soft build-up for a careless laugh. There was a sideways smile that formed a package-deal with a mischievous glittering in his eyes, that told me immediately to be wary of some sort of practical joke he was planning. When he smiled with just his eyes, and he only slightly lifted the corners of his mouth, I could expect him to wrap his arms around me and to place kisses all over my face.

And there was a beautiful, intimate smile that he saved only for me. First, his eyes would begin to sparkle, then the corners of his mouth would pull up – antagonizing in its slowness – until his full lips formed the most gorgeous smile, which dimpled his cheeks and made my heart swell with a lightness and happiness that could only be described as love. A love so pure and deep, that it rang through my whole body, penetrating my very bones and destroying the last, stubborn defenses of my mind.

His fingers were touching the waist of my skirt now, and from my peripheral vision, I saw him grinning slyly. When his fingers touched my panties, I sighed, annoyed and glared to the left.

Emmett looked quickly away and pretended to be occupied with whatever was on the television. When he noticed me still glaring at him, he turned his head toward me, his eyes wearing the most innocent expression.

"What?"

"You know damn well what, Emmett," I said delicately.

Edward snickered and leaned back in his seat, looking at Emmett with a raised eyebrow. "And I would very much appreciate it if you'd keep your thoughts hidden for me."

"I can't help what I think!"

"Sure you can't," Edward grinned, returning to his sheet music.

I snorted and swept his hand from underneath my skirt. Despite his mischievous attitude, his hand moved along easily, and I was very grateful for that. I gave him a sweet smile and in response, his arm went back to my shoulders to pull me against him. I gave in willingly.

Eventually, I was allowed to hunt with him on my own, and it turned out to be one of those points of change in my life. At first Carlisle and Esme had been afraid that Emmett could do something to hurt me when he was in that wild frenzy – he was so strong – but they had conveyed their trust in him. I had noticed his eyes had brightened significantly with the thought of just the two of us hunting.

That day had been the first day the sun had truly shone since Emmett had been a vampire.

It had been such a pleasure to guide him into the first sunlight his vampire-eyes would see, the first sunlight that would touch his vampire-skin.

The first time I'd stepped out in the sunlight as a vampire, I couldn't believe what I saw. I mean… it _couldn't_ be happening right? Me? Shining like the sun? It was almost laughable. It wasn't that it didn't fit my appearance, but… _I_ don't shine. That's not who I am. Ha. Irony, oh, irony. It seemed to follow me like a second shadow.

But when I saw Emmett standing in the sun, staring at his skin like someone who'd recently gone mental – it made perfect sense. It was right, because Emmett belonged to sparkle, he belonged to glitter. He was _supposed_ to shine, because that was just him. Emmett was the brightest of lights.

When I was a child, I'd always been afraid of the dark. I'd been staring at every shadow, searching for the monsters lurking inside them. There was always this point – the moment I could literally piss my pants with fear. I had jumped out of my bed, yanked at my lamp and the relief I had felt when the light made all the evil things disappear…

Recently I'd been living in the dark, shadowy corners of the dark room for way too long, but now that he was in my life... _Emmett_ was the light turned on in that dark room. Emmett was the light that scared all the creepy monsters and all the fear away.

I smiled when he looked up at me with a horrified and slightly panicked expression. "I sparkle. Why do I sparkle?" He looked down at his hands, moving them to see the different facets. "Didn't think I'd ever see the day…"

"You look very cute." I grinned.

He cocked an eyebrow. "I don't look cute. I look very manly."

I laughed, throwing my head backward. "Emmett?"

"Yes?"

"You sparkle. How is that manly?" I teased him.

He pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded slowly. "True…" He sighed. "Well… for a vampire… I'm very manly. Right?"

I chuckled and nodded, humoring him.

I'd never felt weak, but still Emmett managed to make me feel that bit stronger, he made me stand taller. He knew exactly how to lighten me up – just like the lamp would light up the room. He warmed me, made me see the bright places that were once hidden from me. He made me see that the chair in the corner, that looked so much like a children-eating zombie in the darkness, was really just a plain chair.

Emmett made me see the world in his perspective. He made me see the world lighter and less harsh. He was an antidote for my bitterness.

It was only partially, though. Like the light that couldn't possibly reach all the hidden places in the room, Emmett couldn't reach all my dark parts at the same time to soften them. I just had too many of them. But the fact that he _tried_, that he _could_ reach some of those parts… I appreciated it so much. I felt my love for him growing stronger and stronger with each day.

Emmett rolled his eyes at me and twirled a little circle. The beautiful light sparkled around him, creating a colorful halo around his silhouette.

"Ridiculous…" I heard him mutter. He heard my soft chuckle and granted me with a sideways smile.

He seemed to really love me. It was such a different kind of love I'd ever experienced, though. With Royce there was never love - just pure, beastly lust.

With Emmett… there was so much more than just lust. There was affection and adoration. Sometimes I felt like crying, because I was so grateful for having him here, and I was so grateful that I chose to take him with me. To fight for him.

And so my last defenses crumbled – easier than I would have thought. But really, who would deny Emmett anything when he looked at you like that, with his adorable dimples and his eyes that shone more brilliantly than the polestar?

I needed him. I craved him. I couldn't do without him.

I used to think my beauty was everything. But now it was Emmett that had captured the first place in my heart.

Maybe he would even want to have babies. I smiled when I stepped toward him and wrapped my arms around his body, the spectrum of colors coming from my skin mixing with his. Maybe I'd get my so greatly desired babies after all… with Emmett.

I put my chin against his chest and looked up to see him staring in wonder at my face. He stroked my cheek with a sparkling pinkie, and I turned my head to kiss the palm of his hand. I unwrapped myself and grabbed his hand to pull him with me, going for another prey, for another bear. To take revenge on the "stupid, moron-grizzlies" – as he had put it – that had managed to win that one day.

But when I tugged on his hand, he didn't give in, he didn't walk with me.

I turned around to tell him to come with me, but when I saw his face, I had forgotten the words instantly.

His eyes – still more red than golden – twinkled with an emotion I couldn't quite put my finger on. He seemed amazed, thankful, in awe… His tiny smile made dimples appear that interrupted the prism, making the light shine in all the wrong directions. I tilted my head, questioning his expression.

His hand slowly rose to cup my face, and I leaned in hesitantly. If I had a working heart, I was sure it would have been beating in my chest by now. An unexpected current of electricity stirred through my body, and by his delicate shudder I knew he felt it too. My eyes widened, and my breath came in sharp, raspy puffs.

I knew what was going to happen as soon as he bent forward.

But I didn't recoil. I did something that amazed me so deeply, I didn't even feel his mouth on my own until his lips began nibbling my bottom lip. I stood, frozen, trying my hardest to ignore that damned instinct that kept telling me to run away. I froze. And I let him caress my face.

He kissed each corner of my mouth, and then he moved to my nose, my eyes, my cheekbones. His lips were feather light, and his touch was as smooth as water. His breath flowed over my skin, penetrating my nose, making my head light as if I was drunk. Drunk from his scent. He kissed my eyes shut, and I shivered when his lips moved gently to my earlobes and from there to my vulnerable throat. He never went lower than my collarbones, but suddenly I craved more. I wanted more of _him_.

I opened my eyes, and Emmett pulled back a little. Frowning, I rested my hands gently on his arms and nudged him back. His amber eyes found mine, and the look in them was that of pure love and gratitude. I tilted my head and moved my lips over his upper lips, and this time he was the one that stiffened under my touch. Our eyes were still locked when I made the same trip over his face as he just did with mine. Standing on my tiptoes, I put my arms around his neck and pulled him slightly down so I could reach him easier. I felt his arms wrap around my waist, and I felt a surge of pride bloom inside of me when I didn't stiffen.

Our lips found each other again, and they moved around one another in slow, graceful motions. His tongue peeked through his lips and without a second thought I granted him access, opening my lips and letting my own tongue greet him with ginger, luscious touches. I explored his mouth with an eagerness I hadn't expected I would possess. My tongue slid over his smooth, sharp teeth and raked over his palate, feeling every delicate rib.

Gently, his tongue left my mouth, and I felt the pressure of his lips disappear. I opened my eyes, wanting the sweet touches back but found the guarded expression in his amber irises as he moved his lips over my chin, my throat, to my collarbones. I looked back and tried to soften my eyes, trying to convey the message that it was alright. That I _wanted_ it. I _wanted_ him.

He seemed to understand as he bent his head down and his lips roamed over my collarbones in delicious movements. I leaned my body against his and pushed my face in his curly brown hair. My eyes rolled backwards as his lips went lower, and I fisted my hands in his shirt, demanding him to _continue_.

It wasn't necessary. He never stopped.

His big hands encircled my small waist, and they pushed me on my knees. His mouth never left my skin as he straddled me between his legs. He tenderly pushed me backwards until my back hit the moist earth. I gasped as his tongue slipped from between his lips and started making circles on my skin. He went lower and lower, until his mouth found the beginnings of my full breasts.

There, he hesitated.

My hands grabbed his hair, stroked his cheek, his neck, and I whispered hoarsely, "Don't stop, Em." I caught a brief glance of a huge smile, before I felt his tongue continue where he had stopped.

Hindered by my shirt, he didn't go on, but instead, I felt his warm hands slip under my shirt and caress my stomach. I moaned softly, and it seemed to fuel his determination as his caresses pushed my shirt higher and higher, until my entire stomach was bare.

My breathing hitched a bit when his hands touched my bra, and familiar panic overwhelmed me. Immediately, his hands were gone from my stomach, and he cupped my face. My wide eyes zoomed in to his eyes.

"Shh, I'm not going to hurt you," his deep, gentle voice assured me, the low sound vibrating through my body. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you."

I nodded feebly and pressed my lips in a thin line as he carefully removed my shirt. My throat was thick, and my fingers clenched in his shirt. I was panicking big time.

He didn't go on with stroking my stomach or my breasts, though that was what I had expected. Instead, he continued soothing my cheeks, his voice hushing me in its deep, soft tones.

"It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you."

He spoke as if he knew what had happened to me, and in one wild second I knew for sure I had told him in an unguarded moment. When I'd recovered from that shock, I mentally slapped myself. I hadn't told him. But yet he seemed to know what was the matter with me, and I felt a surge of gratefulness. I believed his promises instantly, and my body slowly relaxed.

I cupped his cheeks and gazed into his pools of never-ending amber. I hesitated for only a small second, before breathing, "I trust you, Emmett."

His eyes brightened, and a gigantic, loving smile split his face almost in half as he bent down and pressed a soft kiss on my lips.

"Thank you," he whispered back, his luscious scent streaming through my nose, my mouth… only encouraging me to continue this, only ensuring me that this was the right decision. This was right, and he was mine. He had been mine all along.

My Emmett.

My angel.

My love.

_My world._

His eyes never left mine as he removed his hands from my face and touched my black, lacy bra cautiously. I stared back at him, my expression carefully unfazed. My lips quirked into a tender smile, telling him to continue, that I was ready for this.

His eyes softened in a glimmering pool of love and his fingers removed my bra, revealing the pink nipples beneath them.

I moaned when his fingers touched them tenderly – too tenderly. I arched my back and pushed my body against him. His grin was one of pure happiness as he bowed down, obscuring my vision of my beloved dimples. A soft growl escaped my lips as I felt his tongue making torturously slow circles around my breasts, moving agonizingly slowly to my peaks. I gasped wildly when he finally reached them, my breath going fast and labored as he nibbled them gingerly.

My hands ripped his shirt off, unintentionally, and my fingers started stroking his own nipples. It worked quite well for him. He threw his head back and groaned, the sound entirely new to me. It made me excited and more aroused, and I rubbed harder, my smile turning into a sly grin.

He nuzzled his face between my bare breasts, and his breath tickled my skin. My back arched involuntarily.

"God, Rose…" he mumbled. "You're so beautiful…"

That wasn't new for me, but to hear it coming out of Emmett's mouth made my pride reach a whole new level. And finally I understood that Emmett's opinion was the only one that mattered. If Emmett said I was beautiful, then I was. Suddenly it seemed that all the other people that had ever called me beautiful had never existed. It was as if this was the first time someone had called me beautiful, and my lips stretched into a warm smile.

He fumbled with the belt of my jeans and when he was out of patience, he simply ripped it off and threw it callously away. He freed me from my shoes and jeans in one smooth movement, and I mirrored his actions immediately.

And then, we both only wore our undergarments. Me in my panties, Emmett in his boxers. He shifted and for a moment he had his back straight as he still straddled me, the sun shining against his back, emphasizing his profile.

My eyes widened as I took him in completely. I don't think I'd ever really appreciated how incredibly handsome and muscular and… _beautiful_ he truly was… And now he was on me, his abs closer than I'd ever dreamt of, his strong legs holding me between them, his strong arms cupping my breasts. He was Adonis. He was Apollo. He was a drawing of a warrior God, painted on a background of warm, orange sunbeams, illuminating his dark hair, creating a halo around his luscious body. He was a god. I was making love with a god.

"You're beautiful," I whispered, absolutely astounded with my new discovery, the palms of my hands touching his abs as if it was a great honor. "You're gorgeous."

He smirked, not uncomfortable in the slightest. His gaze still transfixed on my gawking one, he glided one hand between my legs, planting his palm on the inside of my right thigh.

I gasped, my eyes losing its focus as he began rubbing, and _fuck_, that was a sensitive spot. I gasped and moaned and stretched my arms to pull his face closer so I could kiss him fiercely. A few seconds later, he was gone again.

A growl left my throat as a ripping sound reached my ears. He'd torn my panties, the prick. He muttered a vague apology, though he was already forgiven, and continued his handcraft. His wonderful, breathtaking, _arousing_ handcraft. I felt the pressure increase as his tongue replaced his fingers, and he began licking the most sensitive area of my vagina. My fingers raked the earth as my body shivered, ready to explode.

I shifted us, and I ripped his boxers off, revealing his swollen member. I touched it carefully, because really, it looked like it was going to explode too. I smirked at him as he uttered a low growl that vibrated through both of our bodies. He then grabbed my face and began kissing me everywhere, and I could feel the tension rising, building, crackling in the air. I threw my legs around his waist and his response was a deep moan.

And _damn, _I was so very ready.

My back arched as I pushed my breasts against his body, and he seemed to understand my silent plea, because suddenly, he was _in me,_ and I was hot and wet and the burning flames flickered through my whole body, making me scream his name and making me pant for no reason.

And _damn,_ I was _on fire_.

I tugged his hair as he began moving, up and down, up and down and he said my name over and over, kissing me, touching me.

"Rosie," he moaned. And again. "Rosie…"

And for once, I _adored_ that name. I loved the stupid nickname he'd given me. And I loved him and _damn_, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I pulled his face closer, letting my lips touch his ear.

"I love you, Emmett."

And then the explosion happened, the waves drilling through me, making me weak, making me invincible.

With a heavy sigh, Emmett pulled out and rolled next to me, holding me in his arms and stroking my skin. And then he whispered, soft and tender and filled with love and awe, "I love you, Rosie."

I closed my eyes, felt like crying and hugged him closer to me. "Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you, Em."

He didn't say anything, only kissed me again, and I sighed in contentment and _love_. Because this was it, and it had finally happened. I had finally let him in, and I was so proud of myself and so grateful for this fantastic person that was Emmett and how he'd been so patient with me.

"I love you," I whispered again, shifting so my head was resting on his chest, and my arms were wrapped around his body.

He kissed the top of my head and nuzzled his face in my hair, inhaling deeply. "I love you," he breathed once again. "So much. And thank you for everything."

I smiled and pressed a kiss to his bare chest.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! And p****lease let me hear your thoughts!**

**- Rose**


	11. Loss

**Hi guys :) Yep, it's been a long time, I know and I apologize for that. Thank you for Crimson Love20 for betaing - you're awesome! **

**Happy reading and I'll see you at the end!**

**

* * *

****LOSS**

_Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live._**  
Norman Cousin**

**.**

**.**

Babies.

I loved them.

I absolutely adored them, and I'd wanted them ever since I first saw one. The sight of gorgeous Henry had only they would want, because I had always known I would be a good mother.

A mother.

I'd always believed being a mother was the goal in my life, my purpose, my dead ending alley.

And with Emmett, my desire – my dream – was ready to come true. Emmett was meant to be the father for my babies. He'd pass on his curly hair, his sweet dimples and easy laugh.. Our babies would be so gorgeous… He would be the perfect father for our children. He'd play with them, joke with them, show them all the things I couldn't…

I smiled at my thoughts while I turned the page of the magazine that lay on the table. I put my elbows on both sides of it and bowed my head over the pictures of sweet, chubby babies and the gloating mothers who seemed to shine with joy.

The fluttering feeling in my stomach wasn't a worried feeling. It was bees happily buzzing in their beehive, not a care in the world. I didn't realize that one little thud against it could make them explode in anger.

Babies. All I could think about were babies. Babies with Emmett.

My smile grew wider.

From across the room, Edward suddenly looked up at me with wide eyes and an unfathomable expression on his face. I peeked at him for a short second, then went back to the happy pictures.

Edward stood up, threw the magazine he was reading on a table and walked swiftly out of the room. The car magazine he'd stolen from me glided from the coffee table on the floor with a sudden, dark thud, the pages making a sharp ruffling sound. It almost sounded like a bad omen. But I was too engrossed to think about that. I couldn't possibly muse about any bad things when I was looking at so much happiness.

Esme came into the room. She moved to stand behind me and pressed her hands lightly on my shoulders.

"They're pretty, aren't they?" she said softly.

I didn't look up, but nodded in agreement. "They're beautiful."

"Rosalie? Could you come with me?" She asked and her voice carried a strange, hesitating tone. I didn't search for anything behind it.

I looked up at her. "If it's about last week…" I trailed off, remembering the broken floor and the found toys and… costumes. Emmett and I had been a bit too wild and as a result we'd broken a few things, and one of them was a dresser where we'd hidden some… things. Esme and Carlisle hadn't been very happy with us.

Esme shook her head, her lips pulling up in a sideways smile. "No. We already talked about that. Maybe you want to help me with something else, though?"

I turned back to the smiling babies. "Can't you ask Emmett?"

"He's hunting with Carlisle," Edward said, while he strode to the front door. "I'm going, too."

"Come on, Rose," Esme said, and she was already headed toward the stairs.

I sighed and closed the magazine reluctantly.

Esme led me to her office where she always drew her designs of buildings or gardens. She'd often asked me for help or for a second opinion, and when I saw the huge pile on her desk, I pouted.

Esme, however, walked past the heap of sketches to sit on the blue couch in the corner. Surprised, I raised my eyebrows and sat opposite of her in the cotton chair.

I looked at her and when our eyes met, she brought her hands towards her face and pulled them down harshly, like she was trying to erase memories but couldn't. Her eyes closed, and the corners of her mouth pulled down.

A sunken feeling settled itself in my stomach, and I looked at her numbly. _This was not good._

Esme then grabbed my hands and pulled them into her lap. Her eyes left mine and looked down on our combined hands.

"Rosalie…" she sighed. It didn't sound as if she was addressing me. It sounded soothing, comforting. Like she was offering me a bunker to hide in, waiting for the bombs to fall. I wished I could hide.

"Rosalie…" she said again, and she toyed with my fingers.

"What?" My voice sounded sharp even to my own ears.

"You know what my biggest wish was before I met Carlisle and Edward?" She still didn't look up at me.

I shook my head, though I knew what her wish had been.

_This could not be happening_.

"I wanted children." She eyed me with the saddest expression, though for a tiny second her mouth formed a small, mocking smile.

"A lot of children." She nodded to herself.

A numb feeling shot through me, and it felt as if my trachea was being squeezed so tightly, that I could only pull shallow breaths. The fact that my own body was trying to warn me didn't escape my attention. _Go away now. Leave. Stand up and go. Now, while you still can hope, while you still can dream._

But I couldn't move.

Esme looked down again and shook her head, playing with my fingers so harshly, she almost pulled them off. I wouldn't have cared.

_Take everything from me! Everything! My hair, my legs, my fingers! But not that… not _this_…_

"When you're…" She broke off, squeezing her eyes shut. "When you're turned into a vampire… you freeze. You don't ever change again. When you're obese, you'll never be slender again. When a pregnant woman is changed, she and her fetus will be stuck for eternity like that." She shook her head again, trying to shake it off.

_Please…_

"Nothing moves." Her head shot up, and her eyes drilled into mine.

_Please, God… Please…_

"Nothing _lives_…" Her wide eyes begged me to understand, pleaded with me to see the connection.

I shook my head, pulling back as I tried to flee, but she held my hands firmly. I couldn't escape from the truth. The horrible… terrifying… truth.

_No… No… Please God, no…_

"Rosalie… To be pregnant, to be able to have babies… you have to menstruate…" she whispered, pained and saddened.

I'd never put two and two together; I'd never thought about that significant little fact. Now, the reality clattered down on me with a sickening crash.

My breath left my clenched teeth with a sharp hiss.

To be honest, I almost had to laugh. This couldn't be happening right? Was God that cruel? To take this away from me? Wasn't he supposed to be merciful? Wasn't he supposed to be _good_?

Wasn't he… Wasn't I…

My urge to laugh disappeared as snow in the sun. I was completely numb. I couldn't move a muscle.

The storm was back.

And all that time I just shook my head, not able to comprehend it, not able to _understand_. And not because I was stupid – no, not at all. I understood perfectly fine that you needed to… menstruate… I just didn't _want_ to understand. Because if you don't understand just yet, the grief stays out for a little while. But of course it can't stay out forever.

When exactly had life become so cruel? Why did life have to give me so much – just so that I could lose it in the end?

"Rose? I'm so sorry…"

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. "No. You're wrong."

It was so unexpected. Why couldn't someone have warned me this would happen? God owed me that much, but nothing... I wasn't even given the time to build any barriers. I didn't even have time to save myself from this awful blow.

When I looked at Esme and saw her looking back with so much grief in her eyes, I realized my eyes must be showing the same thing – a mirror of hers.

And I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what I _should_ do to make this pain – this horrible, piercing pain – go away.

"Rosalie… Come here." She moved to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. "I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry…" she mumbled, and she pulled me from the chair and put me next to her on the couch. She buried her face in my hair, clenching me in her hug, trying to sooth the sobs that should be coming any moment.

Any moment now.

But they didn't come. I was simply too much in shock to cry.

I pulled back a bit and looked into her eyes, Esme's passionate, loving, kind eyes. Esme, my mother, who had to endure so much pain and loss in her human life and – now I understand – in her immortal life as well.

I still don't know what the effect is to a human to endure so much loss. And if I didn't know… who would? I had lost absolutely everything. Every dream I'd ever had was crushed, utterly broken beyond repair. And for what? Was this a price I had to pay for a life I'd never even asked for?

I was starting to feel cramped.

"I'm sorry…" I whispered. "I just need to…"

I pulled my hands from Esme's lap and gave her a last, begging look. She bit her lip, but seemed to understand. I stood up from the couch and walked to the door. I moved too fluidly, too easily. I should've been unable to move or to walk. I should've been unable to even breathe.

I jumped out of the first window I came across and started to run.

The wind should've blown all the horrors out of me, all the grief, all the pain – but it didn't. The whole world was against me, and I could feel the darkness surrounding me, closing me in, pressing me down until I fell on the ground on my knees.

I pulled my fingers through the earth, raking through the dirt, wanting to hurt the world, wanting it to feel the pain I was feeling right now. But the earth didn't cry, didn't howl, didn't even moan.

I moaned. A sound that seemed to be soaked with sadness, pain, grief, _pain_. Sobs didn't come. I couldn't get enough breath to form them.

Desperate to trigger some sort of reaction from my body so I could start crying – I needed to cry so badly – I stood up from the ground and walked to the gurgling brook nearby. I threw my arms around my body and stared at the gentle waves, leaping and tumbling over each other without a care in the world.

To be careless. That was an emotion I hadn't enjoyed in a long, long time. I missed it terribly.

I tried to find a pattern in the deferred waves, but it was too complicated, too random. I couldn't find anything. I couldn't understand anything.

Loss is an incomprehensible concept because _real_ loss doesn't come with an explicit feeling. You can think about it, but when you do, you have to distract yourself quickly, because remembering your loss feels like someone is jabbing you in the horrible, never-healing wound in your heart and it's just… it's too painful. It hurts too much.

But maybe this only counts for me.

Loss is different for every person.

I closed my eyes and lowered my head so that my chin was resting on my chest. I sighed shakily through my teeth and shook my head slowly.

"Why, why, why?" I chanted softly, my voice muted as if it came from far away. I gritted my teeth when a fresh wave of pain ran through my body, almost bringing me to my knees again.

I'd always thought my dreams were solid and ever-lasting. Much like a twig – bendable, but unbreakable. But now they turned out to be a set of frail wine glasses balancing on a tray. One wrong movement, and they'd fall over, shattering on the floor in tiny pieces so that you could never ever glue them back together.

And the last glass had just fallen.

My dreams were supposed to be my haven – when I was feeling down, I would remind myself about my very possible future, and I would feel happy and hopeful again.

Hope is the cruelest thing someone can offer you. If you're down, you can't fall anymore. But people always have to help you up your feet.

My dreams were my own fairytale. I was the princess, waiting to be rescued by my handsome Prince Charming, who galloped toward me on his white horse, his sword proudly in the air to protect me against everything that threatened to hurt me. He was supposed to protect my dreams, my wishes.

For what was I without dreams?

Somebody without a future isn't really somebody, right?

And I just lost my future.

_And for what_?

I jumped when I suddenly felt arms around me – strong, muscled arms that I only knew too well. His scent engulfed me, pulling me into a cocoon where nothing could ever harm me.

And instead of pulling away and trying to act strong, I turned around and buried my face in his chest, my hands grabbing his shirt so tightly it tore in protest. The sobs were building up, pressing against the dam containing them inside, and I tried my hardest not to cry out loud – not in front of him...

His arms pulled me closer and one hand began to stroke my hair softly and the little, painless tugs felt _so good_. I shook my head, but the dam broke mercilessly, and the sobs burst out, rising from my throat and bubbling over my lips. I gritted my teeth and started crying, something I never planned to do in front of Emmett. But then again… It was Emmett – he wouldn't think anything less of me.

I wished I could cry with real tears. They had always given me relief. But even that simple pleasure was taken from me.

Emmett sighed and whispered: "Rosie…" And in that one word I not only heard his love, but his worry, his care, his unsaid vow that he would always be here for me. With me.

He didn't ask me what was wrong, but pulled me down to the ground and into his lap. He held me even tighter, and I cried my heart out while he was trying to soothe me by mumbling nonsense, bad jokes, and promises of better times into my ear.

And I loved him for that.

He didn't tell me it was alright, that I shouldn't cry, that it would be alright, because how could this be alright? How could this mess ever, _ever_ turn into something pretty, into something even near fine?

No diamond in the rough, no nothing. This was mess. Rubbish, trash. Nothing pretty about it.

It took a long time for my sobs to slow down and then another long time for them to stop.

I turned my head and looked up to see Emmett staring back at me. I first noticed his eyes. They weren't red anymore. They were amber – not entirely golden, but absolutely not red anymore. They were almost as golden as mine. Just as perfect. Just as flawless.

And when our eyes locked I realized I had been utterly wrong before.

I had mistaken my Prince Charming.

It wasn't Royce – it had never been him – it was Emmett. It had been Emmett all along. Emmett was my Prince Charming, and his sword was his jokes, his sweetness that protected me. And the horse had never been a real animal – it was the Cullens. They had come to pick me up, to love me, to care for me.

Emmett had been my dream all along. And even better: this dream was already fulfilled. Emmett and the Cullens were the last shred of my dreams I had left.

And although I hated this life with every fiber of my being, they at least were there with me. Emmett was with me, and he would be forever.

I decided then and there that I would protect – if necessary – my last dreams with everything that I owned. With my life.

I pushed myself up and started kissing Emmett. He didn't hesitate to kiss me back just as passionately.

"Thank you," I whispered between two kisses.

"I love you, Rose," he responded in a low voice, and he caressed my cheek with his thumb. "And I will always be here for you. Maybe it won't be alright, but I'll be here for you," he breathed, his expression more serious than I'd ever seen it before.

I kissed him again and laid my head on his shoulder.

"I love you," I whispered, and I felt him squeeze me in response.

He was right. It wouldn't be alright. Nothing would be alright. Nothing _could_ be alright. But as long as Emmett was here with me, things would at least get better.

And that was one thing I would certainly hope for.

**…**

The sun was already setting when Emmett's grip on me eased a bit. He pulled back and kissed me softly on my cheek. I didn't respond, still a bit numb from the emotional rollercoaster I'd just gone through.

"Come on, babe," he whispered. "Let's go home. I'm sure everyone is worried out of their minds."

I took a deep breath and nodded firmly. He stood up, pulling me with him and wrapped an arm around me while we started walking towards home.

With every step I grew more determined to act as strong as possible. I didn't want to appear broken. I didn't want to experience their pity yet again. Of course I knew they meant well, that they wanted me to be happy, but it just made my skin crawl when someone pitied me.

We left the protective trees of the forest behind us, and I could see Esme and Carlisle sitting on the top step of the porch stairs, huddled close together. Edward came through the front door and at the same time, their heads snapped up to see us approaching. I held my head high and tried not to clench to Emmett as if he was the last thing holding me together, but it wasn't easy – because he was holding me together.

"Rosalie…" I heard Esme whisper, and in the next instant she was beside me, pulling me out of Emmett's arms and into hers. I held onto Emmett's hand as if he was my lifeline. I couldn't even bear the thought of letting him go.

Esme kissed me on my head and then Carlisle was there, rubbing soothing circles between my shoulder blades, kissing the top of my head. I saw Edward standing awkwardly on the side, not exactly knowing what to do right now.

"Sweetheart, we were so worried," Esme whispered. "Come inside the house. Come with us."

Emmett and I followed them to the living room where I sat on the couch, flanked by my parents, Emmett standing behind me, one hand on my shoulder, and the other one stroking my hair.

It took a while for me to smell the scent of burned wood, and when I looked to the fireplace I saw that they'd lit a fire that spread a comfortable warmth throughout the room. I remembered the way I'd tried to convince Esme to miss her human life with this image – it seemed like ages ago – and a sob ripped its way through my body.

Emmett's grip on my shoulder tightened, and Esme laid her head on my shoulder, understanding coloring her expression when she followed my gaze to the hearth.

"We thought you'd like this," she whispered. "You're right, Rose, it _is_ cozy. Especially when you're with your family."

"Thank you," I said with a trembling voice. "Thank you."

"You're our daughter," Carlisle said kindly, "we'd go through fire for you."

The corner of my mouth lifted a tiny bit at his choice of words, and Carlisle touched my cheek lovingly.

We sat for a long, long time in the living room. Just sitting. No words, no talking, no nonsense. That was okay, because at this moment, I didn't want anyone to talk, to try and soothe me. I liked this. Sitting on the couch, snuggled up in Emmett's embrace. Carlisle and Esme silently on the other couch, reading with a content expression on both of their faces. Edward playing a quiet and gentle song on the piano.

The sound of the crackling of the fireplace in the air, my true love next to me, my family surrounding me. _My family_.

I smiled and clenched my hands around Emmett's bigger one. His arms tightened, and his other hand came up to toy with my hair.

I closed my eyes and leaned against Emmett. The disturbing emotions seemed to make place for lighter ones. Contentment. Comfort. Love.

Lots and lots of love.

And I was so incredibly thankful for that.

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**Thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts. **

**There will be two more chapters and then it's finished. In the mean time, I've started on a Jasper/Alice AH story, so I really hope I can find the time to finish that... Because I'm busy, extremely busy :p Thanks again for reading!**

**- Rose**


	12. I Know You

**Sooo... Hi there... :) Okay, it's been a long while, I know... Uhm... blame my beta? Haha, no Crimson Love20 - you're awesome, I love your work, even though you were a itsy bitsy late ;) No worries there. **

**But! We do have two chapters at once, that counts for something, right? Uhm, yeah. The last two chapters. I'm extremely glad this story is over, because I lost my interest in it a long time ago. I'm now struggling to keep my interest in a story for Jasper and Alice - it's working for now ;) **

**I'm not going to keep you from reading any longer... Here you go: The first half of the final two chapters :)**

**Enjoy.**

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**I KNOW YOU**

_With a thousand sweet kisses, I'll cover you.__  
_I'll Cover You - Rent

.

Why do people always want to know everything? Why do they want to understand everything? To explore, to study_every little thing_?

Why is the grass green?

Why is the sky blue?

What are clouds and where do they come from?

Stop asking, stop exploring, just shut up about it!

Stop ruining everything! Stop ruining the fantasies, the dreams, the imaginations of people who just… believe. Who believe in their own ways and don't want everything to be studied, who don't want to see their beliefs die.

Why the hell would one want to know where_babies_come from? Why would you investigate whether you need to have to menstruate for that? Why the hell would you examine that?

Because if that person hadn't, I would still be able to dream. I would still be able to fantasize about a baby with brown curls and Emmett's dimples. But now, because of those_stupid_scientists, I can't. Because if I_do_, it feels as if my heart is ripped out, and I just can't handle that - again.

So, thank you very much, technological developments. You've ruined my capability to dream. You're absolutely brilliant.

When you dream it's like having a safe haven to go back to when you can't handle the truth. Diving into your fantasies is, on so many occasions, much more preferable than struggling in the real world where Truth rules. Dreams are things that happen no matter what. Dreams defy reality.

Memories on the other hand are things that have happened in the past. Things you can't not remember anymore. You can try to ignore it, but it's not simple. Especially not when people start to ask questions.

Tell me again. Why do people always want to know everything?

-:-

"Do you think they'd miss me?" Emmett suddenly asked. We were sitting on the bed, and he had me wrapped up in his arms on his lap. The house was empty except for us.

I pulled back a little to look at his expression. He looked thoughtful, concentrated to show no emotions. Not like Emmett at all.

I snorted, actually surprised he should ask that. "Of course, Emmett. Who wouldn't miss you?"

He frowned and looked at me. "What was it like for you?"

I turned my eyes away from his.

My photo had been in the newspapers for weeks, along with photos of my hysterical parents, my crying brothers, and Royce who was faking grief. They had searched absolutely everywhere. They'd interviewed every tramp on every corner of every street; they'd searched in every empty building, in every sewer…

I looked at Emmett again.

There hadn't been news about him in the newspapers.

But that was different, I told myself. His parents weren't as rich as mine were. His parents didn't have the connections mine had.

"That doesn't matter, Em. I'm sure your family searched everywhere for you."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know_you_, Em." I stroked my fingers lightly over his arm and smiled gently. "And because you told me so much about your parents and brothers I think I know them personally."

He smiled a bit.

"Emmett, your family must have been looking for you in every tree, in every bush, in every stomach of every bear." He chuckled, and I laughed with him. "And I'd bet they're_still_looking for you, because you would do the same thing for them. I know you would."

He looked out of the window. It was pitch-black outside and only the stars scraped a little light together. We had turned on a little glow-lamp, but that was just to set the mood – we could see perfectly well without the light.

He smiled, and he shifted me in his arms so he could get a better look at me.

"Why do you remember so little of your family, Rose?"

I stiffened slightly and looked away. I shrugged, hoping he would drop it.

"Come on. You have to remember something. You remember your brothers, right? You remember when you told me about them? That they'd made some sort of bet?"

I smirked and couldn't help but tell the story again. It was one of the few pleasant memories of my human life that had stayed with me – one that hadn't been completely overshadowed by the darker ones.

"They'd made a bet – I don't even know what about – but the one that lost had to hide my jewelry." I cocked an eyebrow and looked at Emmett, whose eyes glittered in amusement. "You understand that I was absolutely furious when I found out. They didn't dare to tell me where exactly they hid them, so I threatened to hide their new suits so they wouldn't have anything to wear to the party that night. Our parents would be so mad – and my little brothers knew that. They told me were they hid my so-beloved jewelry." I grew ferocious just thinking about it. "Turned out they hid them in the_toilet_." Emmett burst out laughing at my expression. "I was beyond furious. I was screaming and throwing curses at them so loudly, the neighbors had to check on us to see if everything was alright."

Emmett grinned. "I think I would have gotten along perfectly with your brothers."

"Yes, you would have." I grimaced, imagining him and my brothers. They would be a terrifying force of nature, wrecking everything in their path. I wished I could see that, though. Emmett with my family. Me with his family.

Emmett stroked my lips with his fingers. "What's wrong?"

"It's just so sad that we don't get to see each other's families, don't you think?"

He nodded and looked at me with an unfathomable expression.

"Why were you changed?" he said suddenly. His eyes were wide open, brimming with innocence. He didn't even flinch when I narrowed my eyes at him. He knew I hated this subject.

"I told you," I growled. "I was changed so I could serve as a girlfriend for Edward."

He chuckled, ignoring my snappy tone. "And that worked out perfectly, didn't it? You two are just two peas in a pod."

"Hmm."

"I don't believe it, though," he chattered quickly. "I mean, Carlisle would never do that – turn someone so happy, condemn someone to this life just so Edward can be happy." He frowned and shrugged. "Which he'll never be anyway, because it seems to be his favorite pastime to be gloomy all the time."

I stayed quiet, not laughing at his joke.

"Rosalie. Tell me."

I stood up from his lap and stared out of the window.

"No."

"Rose, why not?"

"Emmett, you don't want to know," I hissed, desperate for him to stop, to stop this pleading. I knew that if he pushed long enough, I'd tell him – because I wanted_so badly_to tell him, if only it wasn't so hard…

"But, I do."

"No, you honestly don't." I pressed my fingers to the window, my body tensing, nostrils flaring at just the _reminder_ of what had happened to me.

"Why wouldn't I want to know?" he pressed on. "I know everything else about you. Why won't you tell me this?"

"You don't know anything, Emmett," I murmured quietly.

"Tell me then," he said stubbornly.

I noticed my reflection in the mirror and felt the familiar pride again. Beauty. A gift and a curse, it seemed. I frowned. Would my life have turned out like this if I'd never been beautiful? I didn't know. I would never know.

Without a word, I opened the door to the balcony and moved to sit on the wooden bench. Emmett followed me, sitting opposite of me. Very inconvenient – if there would fall a silence, we'd just be staring awkwardly at each other. I patted next to me, indicating he should sit there.

When he'd settled himself next to me and had slung an arm around my waist, I sucked in a deep breath to prepare myself for telling my broken fairytale.

Everything was already ruined, so why not ruin the last dignity I had left, right? It was only Emmett, after all.

"You remember when I told you about Royce?" I said softly while staring straight ahead.

Emmett growled quietly. "Yeah, your fiancé, right?"

I nodded stiffly, and the words got stuck in my throat.

"Rosalie?"

"I loved my human life, Emmett," I said. I felt strangely calm telling this. "I absolutely loved it, and there must have been a reason why I loved it, but I can't even remember the pleasant memories, because he… messed it all up..."

Emmett was slightly taken aback by my eerie calmness, and he looked at me with a worried expression, his grip on me tightening.

"I loved my parents, my brothers… my status."

I swallowed. My throat felt thick, but when I started talking, the words rushed out in one breath.

"I was walking home from Vera's, having just seen her gorgeous baby. It was a dark night. Cold and chilly. I walked past a group of men. They were drunk, and they began shouting at me. I recognized Royce, but at first I couldn't believe my own eyes, because Royce had always told me he didn't_drink_."

I jumped up and walked to the banister to look Emmett straight in the eye. He was staring wide-eyed back at me.

"There were_five_, Em. They pulled me into the alley." I narrowed my eyes to splits, my voice getting sharper and angrier with every word. "They started to tear off my clothes. There were_five_. They hurt me and forced themselves... forced_me_…" I couldn't get the words over my lips.

Emmett's mouth fell open.

"They left me for dead on the street. That's where Carlisle found me._That_'s why he changed me. Not because Edward needed a girlfriend."

There was a short moment of silence after my rushed story, the air crackling with excruciating tension. After what seemed like ages, Emmett jumped up, breaking the bench in two pieces, his expression absolutely livid.

"They did_what._They did _what_?"

He grabbed me and started to examine me, as if to look for injuries.

I pushed him off of me, snarling. "It didn't happen yesterday, Em."

His eyes bulged out, and he growled so loudly, I could feel my eardrums quiver.

Somewhere inside me it felt good having him so ferocious at my life-destroyers.

"I'm going to kill them," he blurted out, and he made a movement to jump off the balcony right then and there.

I grabbed him by the elbow and stopped him from actually jumping.

"Stay here, Emmett. There's no reason to kill them."

"No… _no reason to kill them_?" he roared ferociously, turning back to me. "They did… They _rapedyou_!"

I flinched at the word, and my anger flared together with his.

"There's no reason to kill them, because I already did!" I yelled back, my voice breaking painfully. "You think I could let them_live_after what they did to me?"

Emmett looked at me with so much ferocity in his eyes, the red of his old eyes almost sneaked back in them.

"Emmett…" I whispered. "You think I could let them_live_?"

He shook his head, and then his arms were around me, pressing me against him, trying to pull me in him so he could protect me with his skin. He laid my head against his collarbone and wound his arms around my waist tightly, as if he was trying to hold me together. His strong arms felt so safe.

I began to tell him everything. Not only about the rape itself, but also about how I killed the filthy animals. I told him every gruesome detail, everything he should know to know me. I explained what my dreams had been like, how they were crushed beyond repair. He listened without making a sound, only holding me, staring at the wall.

When I was finally done telling him, his eyes focused on my face. His expression that had been black with the darkest fury, slowly turned into one so tender and lovable it almost hurt. He started to give me kisses on my neck and face and pulled me back inside of the room, back to the bed where we fell down on the soft, warm sheets.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, and he kissed me again.

I stiffened a bit. More pity? Did I have to expect pity from every single soul in this world?

"I'm sorry for not being there to help you," he continued.

My heart swelled with love for him. No pity. Not pity, but protection.

"I should have been there for you," he continued.

I sighed. "Emmett McCarty, don't you dare feel guilty about it. We hadn't even met at the time."

"We would have found each other eventually."

Rolling my eyes, I huffed. "Yeah, right."

"What, you don't believe in faith?"

"Faith isn't exactly my best friend," I said dryly.

He chuckled. "It is mine, though, so it would have helped me to get to you."

"I would've probably married Royce by then," I murmured. "But it's a sweet idea."

"Not idea, babe. The truth." I looked at him, and his eyes sparkled. Only Emmett could change painful subjects so easily into lighter ones. One of the many things I loved about him.

"The truth?"

"Well, yeah, of course. I would've managed to grab you out of his rich, weak chicken-arms in no time," he chuckled, overly-confident.

I cocked an eyebrow. "Right, and how would that plan have worked?"

"Well." He pretended to think, his face scrunched up in such a funny expression, I had to laugh a little in spite of myself. "I would've bought you a kitten," he then stated.

"A kitten?" I asked skeptically, laughter brimming behind my words.

He nodded, his face most serious. "Yes, a kitten."

I considered him for a while, then shrugged. "Okay, you lost me right there. Why a kitten? I don't even like cats."

"Why not? They look so much like you." He grinned, and I raised an eyebrow. "They look all cute and pretty, but when you want to grab them you have to wear gloves, or else…" He made clawing movements with his hand, his fingers extended and bended as claws.

"Right…"

"And then you'd turn to me, of course."

"Emmett, to be very honest, I think I'd kill the cat, or at least give it away."

"Why would you do that?" He pursed his lips as if he was thinking deeply. "Okay, it would be a very expensive kitten."

"I'd sell it, and then buy a pretty dress with the money," I smirked, actually starting to like this foolish argument.

Emmett rolled his eyes. "So, no kitten?"

I shook my head, and Emmett sighed dramatically.

He seemed to ponder over something for a while and suddenly he rolled us over, so he was hovering over me, leaning on his elbows placed on either side of me.

"Okay, forget kitties," he whispered, and all his playfulness was gone. "I wouldn't have any money to buy you one, anyway. I really wouldn't have any money for other things to buy you, actually. But I'd make you things. I would built you a dream house, Rose, and I wouldn't buy a dress for you, but I'd sew one for you, one prettier than you'd ever find in any store.

"I would fight to give you everything you ever want, and I would know everything you want, because I know_you_." He stroked his finger over my cheek. "I'd bet that that_Royce_never knew how your eyes begin to shine when you grow excited over something. I'd bet he never saw that little smug smirk of yours when you look into a mirror. I also don't think he ever fully appreciated how incredibly cute you look when your hair is all messed up, when you've got grease on your cheeks, or when you don't get your way and start pouting." His fingers glided over my slightly agape mouth.

"But I do. I do see how ridiculously happy you become when you buy and wear yet another new piece of clothing, or new shoes. I know your dark sense of humor, the exact shade of black-gold your irises darken into when you're exceptionally mad. I know how you slightly tilt your head back when you're enjoying something, the exact way your lips purse when you're concentrating, the precise angle of your raised eyebrows when you're surprised. I know how to lighten your sadness, I know how to make you laugh. And I know when you think I'm funny, even though you pretend to be mad at me." He smiled softly and looked deeply into my eyes.

I bit my lip, my heart threatening to explode with love. Finally life had given me something I deserved – in the form of joking, loving, caring, protective, light-hearted, fantastic Emmett.

"And it really hurts me to think about all the things that I can't give you because of what we are." He continued and he pulled me into his lap again. "But I want you to know that if we were human, I would have given you all the things you would have wanted. A house, a family – Rose, we would have so many babies you would get crazy of them. And I would have worked my ass off to provide us the money our family would have needed."

I could only stare at him with eyes full of wonder and love.

"Because I love you. And I would do anything for you," he said simply and he smiled, one mouth-corner pulled up in a gentle smile. "I'll always cover you."

I hugged him. "I love you so much, Emmett."

He pushed me slightly away to give me thousands of feathery kisses all over my face. I tried to hide in his chest, but his strong arms held me firmly while he planted all those kisses. Eventually, I started to laugh, and he ended the series with a long one on my lips. Our tongues explored each other's mouths as if it was unknown territory, and our hands roamed over each other's bodies as if this was the very first time for both of us.

His hands went to my calves, and he pushed them upwards, so that they rested against his hips. He gently pulled off my clothes, and I eagerly undressed him too. He laid me down on the bed and started to caress my sensitive skin with a wet and warm tongue.

I shivered in delight, and I pulled his head to my mouth again to answer his passion and love.

God, I loved him so much it almost hurt.

We spent the rest of the night driving out all of my dark thoughts in our own personal, physical way.

In the future, in 2006 to be exact, Emmett would tell his story about me rescuing him, to a very clumsy, happy – slightly idiotic – brown-eyed human girl. He would tell her it wasn't so bad to live in hell when you get to keep an angel with you – the angel supposedly being me. But he was wrong. I wasn't the angel. I wasn't the rescuer.

_Emmett _was the angel.

This sweet, understanding man that could lift my dark moods with one of his booming laughs and a shining twinkle in his eyes…

He was wrong; it was reversed.

Emmett was _my _rescuer.

.

_So tell me when you hear my heart stop,_

_You're the only one that knows_

_Tell me when you hear my silence,_

_There's a possibility I wouldn't know_

_So tell me when my sigh is over,_

_You're the reason why I'm closed_

_Tell me when you hear me fallin',_

_There's a possibility it wouldn't show_

_By blood and by me, and I'll fall when you leave_

_By blood and by me, I follow your lead_

_Possibility – Lykke Li_

_

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_

**I hope you liked it and I like to hear your thoughts :)**

**- Rose**


	13. Epilogue: Rising

**And the last half of the final two chapters :) Author Note at the bottom, enjoy reading.**

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**Epilogue: RISING**

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"Emmett, where are we going exactly?" I asked for the umpteenth time. I popped my lips to apply the lipstick properly and tilted my head to the right to check my hair.

He sighed dramatically and winked at me.

"It's a surprise, Rose." He rolled his eyes and moved to stand behind me. "Geesh…" He pulled my hair teasingly, making it a mess all over again.

"Damn it, Emmett." I swatted his hand irritably and fixed my hair to its original state of perfectness.

He gave his tie a little nudge, and my gaze flickered to his reflection. My eyes grew slightly wider, and I licked my lips in lust when I saw how absolutely gorgeous he looked. The dark suit he'd changed into moved around him as if it was a second skin, making his muscles and tall frame stand out. He looked more handsome and sexy than I'd ever dared to dream. Emmett saw me looking and grinned a sideways smile.

"You liking the view, sweetheart?" he asked mischievously.

I tore my gaze away with difficulty and reminded myself I was annoyed at him and not aroused. "You just tell me where I'm going, and yes, I am," I muttered.

He laughed and ran a hand through his hair, while he offered me his other one. I grabbed his hand delicately and made a movement to stand up gracefully. I uttered a squeal of surprise when he yanked me out of my seat and spun me on my heels like a ballerina. I heard his soft chuckle just as he arched my back backwards, one hand supporting my small waist, the other one tipping my head to face him. He bent over me and blew a warm, tickling breath in my décolleté. I shivered and panted a little when I looked in his wide eyes that shone with glee.

"Are you ready, babe?"

I smirked, heated. "I guess I am."

I untangled myself from his arms and checked myself in the long mirror once more. My smile grew wider when I saw the beautiful reflection, and my eyes began to shine significantly lighter. I was absolutely breathtaking. The long indigo-blue dress I'd recently gotten from Esme hung delicately around my form, accentuated my small waist and twirled around my legs, feeling like water. I twisted around so I could see the other side of it. The back was cut very low, the fine material joining again just as the curve of my hips began. I pulled up the dress and reached out to secure the strips of my silvery stilettos.

When I straightened up, Emmett came to stand behind me and carefully placed a kiss in my neck. He wrapped his arms around me and rested his head on my shoulder.

"You look absolutely magnificent. You're such a breathtaking woman," he whispered, burying his face against my neck.

I smiled warmly and stroked his cheek before I pulled one strand out of my hair and let it curl around my face. The rest of my hair was pulled backwards and the long, wavy curls flowed over my bare back fluidly. I inhaled contently.

_Beautiful._

Emmett released me from his embrace, and I turned around to grab my purse from the desk. I slipped my arm through Emmett's offered one and looked up at him, smiling for once. Emmett looked lovingly back at me and bowed his head to give me a gentle kiss.

"I love you so much," he whispered.

I leaned against him. "I love you, too."

Emmett sighed and pecked my cheek. "Well, come on, babe." He guided me down the stairs.

At the bottom, Esme and Carlisle were standing with their arms around each other, happily looking up at our approach. Their eyes began to shine visibly when they saw our appearances. Esme covered her mouth with her hand.

"You two look so gorgeous," Esme whispered, looking as if she was about to cry.

I smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you, Esme."

Carlisle chuckled and looked down at his wife. "Esme, didn't you want to…?"

He didn't have to finish his sentence, because Esme gasped and fluttered her hands around, flashing to the small coffee-table in the corner. She grabbed the metallic object laying there and was back in the blink of an eye. She pushed it into Carlisle's hands.

"You have to do it. I don't think I can do it properly," she said hastily, and Carlisle chuckled again, while Esme's shining eyes refocused on us.

Carlisle was still laughing when he held up the camera. My smile widened and next to me, Emmett grinned.

"Say 'hi' to the birdie, Rosie," he whispered in my ear, and he pulled me closer.

I laid my head against his chest and smiled. Carlisle pushed his finger down, and the camera snapped with a blinding flash.

Esme clapped her hands excitedly and rushed forwards to give us a hug, a sob escaping her lips.

"Okay, seriously," I said, suddenly suspicious. "What the hell is all this about?"

"Have fun, kids." Carlisle smiled at us, and he, too, looked close to crying.

I scowled, and my suspicion grew when I saw his knowing smile. "You two know something, don't you?" I asked. "Where am I going?" I demanded, but Emmett was leading me out of the house. "Carlisle, Esme, where is he taking me?"

"Have fun!" Esme cried with a huge smile and gleaming eyes. She hugged her husband closer and leaned into his embrace. For God's sake, what was going on?

I huffed and stepped through the front door that Emmett held open for me.

"Not fair," I muttered, while I stepped into the passenger seat.

Emmett walked swiftly to the other side and when he sat down and started the car, he offered me his hand. I took it without thinking, still annoyed that I didn't know where I was going.

"Am I even dressed right?" I asked. "If this is a joke, Emmett McCarty, if you're taking me to a football match… in_this_dress… It's silk. If this is going to be ruined…"

"Then what, babe?" he asked with a grin from ear to ear, making circles with his thumb on my hand.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I narrowed my eyes accusingly, the light mood of earlier completely ruined.

He nodded enthusiastically. "I am, actually. I really am."

I huffed again and stared out of the front window.

"Relax. You're going to enjoy it."

"I am, Emmett?" I asked sarcastically.

"Oh, I'm one-hundred percent sure about that," he laughed, and I grew more irritated at him. I pulled my hand back and crossed my arms.

"Oh, come on," he coaxed, but his smile only grew wider, and I turned my head away from him to look at the forest shooting by.

The side mirror shimmered in the sun, and I could only catch the reflection of my full lips and my porcelain chin and throat. The red of my lipstick contrasted perfectly with the paleness of my skin. It had a pretty effect. The corners of my mouth lifted a tiny bit.

We drove far. Really, really far. The drive itself lasted at least four hours because it was already twilight by then and in that immense span of time, I hadn't gotten more words out of Emmett than laughing and him trying to seduce me in a lousy attempt to distract me from my irritation.

I grew crankier by the minute, so by the end of the four-hour drive I was actually quite pissed, and I stepped out of the car with a rigid motion, gripping the front of my dress to save it from being dragged through the filthy streets. I snatched my purse and hung it on my shoulder, ignoring Emmett when he put his arm around my waist and forced me to walk to the opposite side of the road what seemed to be a bridge.

Thousands of scenarios involving me pushing Emmett off the bridge flashed through my mind and my mood spiraled down with each image. The annoyance still whirled through my body, and by the time we made it to the other side of the road, I was so irritated I had to rely fully on Emmett to lead me the right way, because I honestly didn't care to notice my surroundings.

My heels clicked loudly on the stones, and the ticking sound echoed through my head, fuelling my exasperation until I was ready to yank them off of my feet and throw them into the canal.

My eyes grew huge when I actually noticed the canal. I untangled myself from Emmett and strode towards the banister to get a better look.

The banisters of the bridge we'd been walking on were decorated with small, delicate lights. Those lights and the lights of the city were being reflected in the canal, and the water seemed as if it originated from a fairytale. It was breathtaking, and I took it all in with a greediness I could barely recognize.

My shining eyes saw boats floating calmly on the quiet waves, on the coastline were trees that looked dazzling from the superfluous decorations draped over their branches. Miles and miles and_miles_of ropes that were sparkling with billions of bright lights hung from tree to tree, from house to house, from shop to shop. They were wound around tree trunks, cars, banisters, statues… The whole view was one shimmering, glowing… fairytale…

The most beautiful of all, was the reflection the brilliant objects cast upon the silent water. The water was bathed in shining sparkles that moved quietly with the waves. For a moment I could fully believe that those mysterious lights were guardian angels, each flickering orb. The water seemed to be alive. It was dreamlike.

Emmett probably felt my dark mood had disappeared, and he casually wrapped his arms around me, giving me a gentle kiss on my collarbone. My lips touched his swiftly, but I wanted to see more.

I turned my head and focused my eyes on the city. I could see the marketplace, and I could also see some of the narrow alleys. They were lit with lampions and all kinds of festive lights in every color you could think of.

Calm, dreamy music filled my ears, coming from street artists standing on a small stage on the plaza. People walked around it, softly talking, occasionally letting out an outburst of laughter. Cute, perky restaurants had opened their doors, and the waiters were walking around, laughing, talking animatedly, offering drinks and appetizers.

The air was brimming with the delicious smell of plants, flowers that grew in every corner of the street hung from every balcony of every house. The murmuring sound of the water, splashing against the poles of the bridge, made a perfect tune with the music made by the artists…

It was as if I had stepped into a dream.

Emmett chuckled next to me, and I twisted in his arms to look at him in wonder.

"You…"

"There's some kind of feast or something," he said, shrugging in innocence and smiling his dimpled grin. "Come on."

He offered me his arm, and I took it without hesitation, my mouth still slightly agape with amazement.

"What do you think?" he asked while we walked through a narrow alley – the smell of incense mixed with Emmett's delicious scent caressing my nostrils like a fresh summer breeze. The street stones were little cobbles that were bumpy and dissimilar to each other. It was a holiday in another country, that's what it was.

"I think it's absolutely amazing," I breathed, looking around me, not wanting to miss a single thing. I nudged him with my elbow and pointed at a balcony with flowers overflowing it, their petals almost hanging on the street. "Look at that, Em."

Emmett buried his nose in my hair, and I could feel him smile.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I asked with a smirk.

"Well, you're not angry anymore, so… yeah…" he said, confident of himself.

"Well, I'm glad you are," I said with a grin of my own.

"And she smiles…" he said and pulled my hair softly.

"Cut it out," I said, laughing, patting my hair back in place.

We strolled to the market place and kept standing to watch the band. They played soft, swooning music. We stopped just outside the dance area and watched people dance intimately and slowly with each other.

I was content standing against Emmett, soaking in all this brightness, but then he stepped forward and offered me his hand. "Miss Hale, will you dance with me?" he asked with shining eyes.

I rolled my eyes and took his hand. "Of course, Mr. McCarty.

We quickly found ourselves dancing closely to each other. I had my arms around him and rested my head on his chest – utterly and irrevocably in love, the fluttering feeling making itself quite clear in my stomach and in my head.

Nothing was clear anymore. Everything was Emmett, Emmett, and Emmett. He stroked me softly over my back and pulled me against him, laying his head on my hair, inhaling my scent.

My heels ticked softly on the cobbles, and I found myself not annoyed with it anymore – instead it was carrying the tune of the music now, laying the foundation so the notes could climb up, tumble over, fall down – play with this constant basis.

I closed my eyes and surrendered to it all.

The music, the swaying, the magical feeling… Emmett…

Suddenly the soft singing stopped, and the music became softer, faded to the background and stayed there, burbling and playful.

"I'd like to make an announcement," the singer whispered huskily, keeping the tone of his voice in sync with the music.

"Not only is this a special day," he continued and the sound of his voice sounded so gentle and tender, blending in perfectly with the soft thuds of the drums.

"Something very special is going to happen," he chuckled, "right now."

Emmett's arms tightened around me, and I gave in willingly, leaning closer.

I heard a sharp click and I looked around to see the singer jump off the stage, the detached microphone in his hand, and walking in the crowd that parted to get a clearer view on him. The music got a little bit louder.

To my enormous surprise, the singer stopped in front of us, and he smiled kindly at me.

"Well, man," he then addressed to Emmett. "I_do_envy you," he chuckled again, and I looked at Emmett questioningly. He only winked at me, his eyes huge with excitement.

I looked at the singer again, my eyebrows raised in confusion. He grinned and suddenly the pressure of Emmett's body against mine was gone, and I whirled my head around to watch where he'd gone to, my lips already forming his name.

I almost got a heart attack when I saw Emmett on one knee in front of me, gazing into my eyes with such a passion in his stare I swore I could've flown if I wanted to.

There was a clear ringing in my ears that got louder when Emmett reached in his pocket and took out a small, shining black box. Maybe it was the music, but the band didn't have any bells...

Emmett grabbed the lid of the box. The crowd sighed, but my breathing hitched and stayed stuck in my throat, hopelessly lost.

"Rosalie…" he said softly and the singer held his microphone lower, trying to be inconspicuous about it. "Rosie… I have loved you from the very first moment I saw you." He grinned. "You're one of the most pessimistic, sarcastic and humorless people I've ever met," he chuckled, but I couldn't bring myself to scowl. "But you're also the strongest person I've ever met. And above all, you're the most gorgeous, fiercest, smartest and most _perfect_woman I've ever had the fortune to be with. I love you, Rose, and I want to share my life with you."

He pulled the lid, the box opened and the most beautiful diamond ring was flashing at me. My breath had been found again and rushed through my throat, searching its way out.

"Rosalie Lillian Hale, will you do me the great honor of marrying me?" he asked, and he gave me a full smile, his dimples throwing shadows across his cheeks, his eyes twinkling from the emotions.

The breath I'd been holding burst through my teeth and suddenly I was on my knees, throwing my arms around his neck, the crowd going wild, the singer laughing with delight.

"Yes." I kissed him on his cheek. "Yes." I kissed him on the other cheek. "_Of course_." I kissed him on the mouth, and it was a long and passionate kiss we shared. "I don't want anything else more than to marry you," I whispered, and I squeezed him so tight that if he were a human he would've choked.

"_I love you_," I breathed in his ear. His arms gave me a firm but tender hug, but then he pushed me off of him.

"Rose, the ring," he mumbled, a shy smile playing with the corners of his mouth. He grabbed my left hand, and my smile was huge when he slid the beautiful jewel on my finger.

He gave it an approving look. "Perfect size." He winked at me and pulled me back in his arms.

"Thank you," I said smiling. "_Thank you_."

It was perfect.

Everything was perfect.

The crowd was whispering their delight – saying that I was too beautiful to be true and murmuring their envy directed at both of us.

"I love you," I muttered.

He chuckled and gave me fluttering kisses on my face.

"She's_so_gorgeous…"

"He's so lucky…"

"Look at her_hair_…"

"Look at his_biceps_…"

"She's so slender…"

"Beautiful…"

"_Beautiful_…"

He knew me too well.

I adored the spotlights this place had caught me in. It made me feel alive again. It made my dead heart leap in pride – feeling like it was beating again, making me feel human for a short while.

The music swelled and burst out in a happy tune. The singer grabbed his microphone and attributed his happy tone with the instruments.

They sang about love, about soul mates, about_the one_.

But I didn't need songs…

I was staring right at my everything – my love, my soul mate, my best friend, the one, my_fiancé_. The words had never sounded that good, that splendid, that phenomenal, that fabulous.

My fiancé.

Emmett… my fiancé.

I liked the sound of it; it fit him perfectly.

I twirled around, Emmett never holding me longer than an arm's length away from his body. We spun around on the plaza – the crowd watching wide-eyed and red-faced with excitement. We danced and danced and danced, and the whole time I only had eyes for Emmett.

And every time I gazed into his eyes, my heart fluttered happily, trying to fly with love, making it beat the whole time. I felt it bounce against my ribs loud and clear, almost resembling a real heart beat. But this was enough. It made me feel normal again. It made me feel extraordinary. It made me everything again. It made me feel like my human self again.

It made me feel Rosalie Hale. The human Rosalie Hale.

And I was eternally grateful to Emmett for that.

We kept dancing. Twirling and spinning, not stopping when the music slowed down and eventually ended. The crowd strolled away, the place getting quieter and quieter and still we kept dancing. Dancing and dancing all alone, underneath thousands of flickering lights – the water and the whooshing of the wind serving as our music.

A particular harsh breeze flung my hair in my face, and I felt Emmett's fingers tucking it daintily behind my ear. I looked into his eyes with a warm smile, and I realized I wasn't alone anymore. I would never ever be alone. Because I had him. I had Emmett.

I had found my true love, and he was smiling down at me like he loved me every bit as much as I loved him. I could believe he did because I recognized the amazed glimmer in his eyes.

It was the same glittering that shone in mine.

I smiled up at him and kissed him lovingly.

I wasn't falling any longer. My rising had finally,_finally_started. And I owed Emmett forever for that.

Good thing eternity stretched out for us without any intention of stopping – ever.

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**So in the end, Rosalie came out pretty okay, right? Who'd complain with an Emmett at their side? Right. You don't.**

**I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

**Okay, it's obviously the end of the story and I want to thank my beta Crimson Love20 profusely for sticking with me even though it took so long for me to get the chapters to her... THANK YOU! She's awesome - really, she is :) And if you're a Jalice fan, you should look out for a story of mine I've just begun to write. It can take a while, though... :) But I promise you it will be good, I learnt a lot considering writing from this story :)**

**Well, I guess that's it. Thanks again everyone :)**

**Love  
- Rose**


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